#BUT doesn't realize he has these feelings just yet.

[yumeka-sxf]

A very short new chapter this week but...wow, the preview mentioned that it's about a dream Anya had, but I wasn't expecting baby Anya right off the bat 😭

A couple things we can infer about this short scene with her mother is that 1) they're both wearing what appears to be hospital or another kind of medical facility gowns, which indicates that they were perhaps both at the lab together. Likely her mother was there first for who knows how long, and Anya was born there?

And 2) the emphasis on being able to fly like a butterfly makes me think that they're trapped there. Anya is too young at this point to understand what's happening, but her mother desires that at least Anya is able to "fly away" to a better life someday.

It's hard to tell if Anya has her mind reading ability yet, or if her mother can read minds too. We don't see any of the "sparkles" that are used as a visual cue for when Anya is mind-reading...I feel like we would have seen that in the scene below when she's looking up at her mother before hugging her. But it could just be too short of a scene to say for sure.

Some notes about the Japanese version, @spencer-is-someone and others were wondering if she calls her ママ ("mama") here as opposed to what she calls Yor, はは ("haha"), and yes, she does call her biological mother the actual word "Mama." This is consistent with the Eden interview scene too.

The first panel of the Japanese version also has this extra text on the left that reads "a precious memory from some other time..."

Something that I mentioned in my review of chapter 102 is how Endo hides the faces of certain characters in other characters' flashbacks, such as how Loid's parents' faces are hidden, as is the face of Henry's wife in Martha's flashback. In the same vein, Anya's mother's face is obscured as well.

I interpret this as the characters' suppressing the memory of the character whose face is hidden due to the emotional trauma that character elicits, a trauma that the character having the flashback is trying to overcome, whether they realize it or not. In Anya's case, it could simply be that she doesn't remember her mother's face since she was so young, but regardless, I like that Endo is being consistent with this.

Side note, it seems like the design for Anya's mother is based on Ashe, a character from one of Endo's previous works. Anya's design was based on Ashe as well, so makes sense that her mother would have a stronger resemblance.

Before the chapter ends, we're treated to "soft" Loid with the little sigh he has (the "phew" cloud in the lower right) whenever he's genuinely relaxing around the family 😊

It's interesting how the mind-reading thing from the previous chapters with Melinda is brought up...when Anya asks if Yor can read her mind, Loid looks concerned, but when Yor tells him she only knew about the potato gratin because Anya saw it on TV, he relaxed.

I kinda hope that the Melinda story continues in the next chapter, but it could be paused for now. Likely we'll be moving onto something else next time. Maybe we'll go back to the "Anya reveals her secret to Damian" thing, since school is resuming according to Loid. I am a bit surprised though that this chapter was so short despite not being called a "Short Mission" chapter. Endo could still be trying to catch up after the recent long hiatus he had due to illness. But it's fine, I'm happy with crumbs of Anya's backstory not matter how small! 😅

[fangel]

ohmygosh… you’ve done it (∩´﹏`∩)♡ my rambles ･⁀➴

i’d like to start with WHATTHEFUCKKK the concept alone is so good, so unique — I LIVE AND LOVE to find dark fics that are actually different from the ‘oh he’s a serial killer blah blah omg the nth scream slasher inspo blah blah’ NO GIVE ME PASSION, GIVE ME A MAN WHO IS TRULY LOST IN HIS WAYS W/ HIS MIND CRUMBLING IN ON ITSELF BC HES SO OBSESSED SO GONE !! GIVE ME REASON AS TO WHYYY HE IS A MESS !! you delivered that 🤍 !!

the way he has this dominance over her even without being there: picking out her clothes, specific preference to hair and makeup, surrounding her with his work--the dolls of her that can never quite be her no matter how hard he tries--aka the constant reminder of his afflicted obsession !!!! AHHH and she feels so has to maintain that perfection to keep his best interest to the point it's all she knows even tho disgusted !!!!

at first i was lowkey mad at him bc why are you spending all day trying to make a doll that looks like (me) her when the real thing is right at home !?!? but after reading i get it. he's just a sick fuck who is scared of the perfect love being gone one day. he's so desperate to hold onto the idea that he needs to preserve it, keep it forever. tbh.. #NeedThat level of obsession

okay ngl when she talks about the dolls and how they move and watch her etc i was like oh no she's gone schizo.. she's going crazy being cooped up at home with all those lookalike dolls -- BUT NO THEY'RE LIKE ACTUALLY MOVING ANDF SHIT?!?! wth and then i was like wait are they real people !? spirits !? THE HUMMING -- and then the missing girls that look like her on tv.. him being gone all the time.. okay i see you sunghoon. i know what you are

the dollhouse. just that. the dollhouse. how it depicts what's happening WOW ! such a cool twisted way to incorporate how she slowly puts things together. reminds me of until dawn with the dollhouse in the basement -- and more on the dolls, people or spirits whatever the hell, NO they are lil guardian angels trying to save her !! to warn her of what is really happening !!

the smut. HELLO???!/ the smut is a world in its own. absolutely insane but in a beautiful way. should i be scared? yeah, but i am Horny instead. break me apart !! mold me, shatter me, recreate me however you want just keeping fucking me with those glasses on dgasgfksgfa but fr... there's so much hidden tellings even in the smut. she's begging him to release that darkness he harbors onto her, telling him 'to do it' but doesn't realize the weight of her words and what's she's telling him to do. the way the darkness stirs in him, indirectly getting her permission to indulge on his twisted desires of having her as his REAL DOLL. crazy. all out of love they're both losing themselves yet getting what they want. (the audience stands and applauds)

"the experiment" and the dolls all being trial and error... fucking insane. i love everything about this so bad. his dedication.. his oath..

"Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. -- You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy."

⤷ LOVED THIS, i feel like this sets up the whole story right here.

It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart

⤷ the way that this is literal... at night in workshop with literal doll parts and in bed with her she's breaking apart under his hold. wow. also doll parts by hole mention !!

her in the beginning "These days, you just wanted to be." and then sunghoon in the end "It just is"

⤷ chefs kiss, perfect. idk what else needs to be said.

the concept reminds so much of an old rpg game called "mad father" i was OBSESSED with it when i was younger and you've allowed me to escape in a (loosely) similar world. ily for this

dear kipo, your attention to details and way of storytelling is so wonderous and amazing. you've captivated me in this horribly perfect lil world. such a fucked up, pretty story. you are so so talented!! i could dissect the whole story tbh but i need to stfu

one last thing hdfjakhfkas this is so long im sorry but PLEASE listen to this song. i've had the artist on repeat for like 2 weeks and this song reminds me of this story SOOSO MUCh pls tell me what you think >.<

anyways <3 i ate this tf up. ty for your service 🍽️ !!

THE DOLLMAKER ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸  𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!

you were sunghoon’s muse, his flawless, perfect wife that he dresses in frilly dresses and makes sure you always looked like the idealized woman. that much was evident from all the dolls he made of you that sat proudly throughout your home. but, when sunghoon isn’t there, the dolls move and show you things that would otherwise be hidden in the shadows. one day, they show you something so frightening, something completely sinister that you force yourself to believe that it isn’t real. your beloved husband wouldn’t do something like that, would he? you weren’t so sure about your answer anymore.

pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ established relationship, angsty & mature themes, smut, some fluff, husband & dollmaker!sunghoon, gothic vibes, supernatural elements

warnings ⸝⸝ dark content, heavy dubcon, dollification, mentions of murder and kidnapping, really creepy dolls, sunghoon is actually insane lmao, heavy gaslighting, possessiveness, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, heavy body worship, slow sex to rough sex and back to soft sex (you’ll see), manhandling, handjob, cumshots, clit stimulation, fingering, brief somnophilia, slight dacryphilia, mentions of oral (f. rec), praise, petnames (my love, darling, doll), hair pulling (m. rec), cockwarming, a lot of skinship, teasing, brief nipple play, mentions of aftercare, they are very very codependent, traditional marriage aspects

𝓴ipo’s note ⸝⸝ went a bit insane writing this because why is the smut scene alone 5.4k words??? but it’s finally here!! my first post on my new blog (that’s not part of a series) and my first darker content fic!! this was really fun to write and opened a primal lust within me for sunghoon that made me crazier… hehe enjoy loves!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏  ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 14.8k ❩    ╱    ❨ 𝓶. list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

You always strived to be nothing short of perfect, and you were immensely proud at the fact that you have never strayed from the path of the idealized woman in the eyes of their beholder.

And you were perfect. The perfect person, the perfect woman, the perfect wife. It was what you were born and bred to be, and with a smile you lived your life knowing that not a single frizzy strand of hair was out of place nor was there a single wrinkle in your dress. You were pretty, pristine, perfect. You’d ask for nothing more.

But, as the days started to pass—and your husband was out later and later for work—you started to hate the idea of perfection. You clawed at it like a noose wrapped around your pretty throat. Gone were the days where you’d be set alight with how well you presented yourself—with how much your husband loved to stare at you. These days, you just wanted to be.

In the beginning, you loved to be under Sunghoon’s watchful eye. You loved how he’d dress you in perfectly fitting clothes suited to what he loved to see you in—frills and lace. Loved how he’d fluff your hair if it was too flat or if it wasn’t up to his standard, or smooth down the fabric of your dress. You loved when he treated you like his perfect little doll. It meant the world to you, especially when it came from such an expert dollmaker like your husband himself. In his eyes, it meant you were the best of the best, that no other doll that he has made could compare—his perfect creation.

Now, the more you think about it, the more your throat closes up. But, as much as you’re growing to hate the idea, you just can’t let go of the deeply rooted perfectionism you still strive for. It’s as if it’s embedded in your skin, as if it’s in the marrow of your bones and in the blood that pumps through your veins. You don’t know how to live a life that isn't perfect, and at this point, you’re too scared to find out what that life entails.

So you put on the dress Sunghoon lays out for you before work and you style your hair just the way he likes it—and you be perfect. Because that is all you know how to do.

You stare at yourself in the mirror in your bathroom, your brows knitted together. Confusion spread throughout your body as you tried to put a name to what you were feeling. Disgust, maybe? Hatred? You didn’t know. Sighing softly to yourself, you picked up your makeup brush and dusted more of the blush onto your cheeks.

Sunghoon had already left for work, so it didn’t even really matter what you looked like right now. You stepped out of the bathroom and into your bedroom. Dolls of various sizes greeted your sight. Some had intricate and realistic outfits, the same ones that you wore, and some of them were more plainly dressed. There were dolls everywhere in your home, even some perched on the open shelves of your kitchen. It was a little girl’s dream home. The most unsettling thing about all the dolls around you no matter where you turned was how much every single one of them resembled you in some way.

It was as if Sunghoon could never quite capture your likeness exactly. With some dolls, their eyes were too big, their lips were too small, or the arch of their brow wasn’t quite right. Sometimes he couldn’t accurately carve the curve of your nose. You knew it drove him mad, not being able to immortalize you in his craft.

“You’re too flawless,” Sunghoon had told you once. You were laying in bed together and the tips of his fingers trailed along your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. He used to always give you goosebumps, the good ones. Now it feels more like a chill down your spine.

You stared up at him from your pillow and watched as his eyes devoured your frame. His fingers twitched, briefly stopping their descent back down your arm, and you could tell he had the urge to test his hand at making you again. “I don’t think I’m flawless,” you smile at him, “I’m just as flawed as everyone else—just as human.”

Sunghoon’s gaze flicked up to your face, specifically to your smile, like he was committing it all to memory. He moved the hand that was trialing your shoulder up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently caressed the soft skin before he grazed it along your lips. There was a certain glint in Sunghoon’s eyes that you knew all too well.

“You’re flawless to me,” he stated. His thumb brushed along your bottom lip and pulled it down a little. You watched as his pupils dilated and the mix of lust and fascination that swirled in them grew. Ever so slightly, his eyes widened, too. Sunghoon moved his thumb down to your chin before leaning down to press his lips to yours.

He captured them with a certain roughness—the type that always shocked you with how gentle it initially seemed. Sunghoon’s hand grabbed your chin harder, his fingers creating soft indents into your skin as he leaned your head back and further into the pillow.

You were so moldable for Sunghoon, a shiny lump of clay ready for his skilled hands to turn you into a masterpiece. He hummed into the kiss and his teeth delicately bit down into the flesh of your bottom lip, only enough to not leave a mark. You moaned into his mouth, your arms raising to wrap around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer. In response, Sunghoon pulled his lips away from yours. He pressed feather light kisses to your cheek and up to the shell of your ear. “You’re my muse,” he whispered, before his head dipped to the crook of your neck to leave kisses there too.

You suppose that being so perfect wasn’t so bad if it meant that Sunghoon couldn’t keep his hands off of you—if it meant that he couldn't keep his hands off of his tools to try and remake you over and over again. Perhaps you were viewing it all wrong. Maybe it wasn’t a noose around your throat, but a pretty handmade necklace crafted by his nimble fingers. If it meant that Sunghoon never leaves, then you could be as perfect as he wanted forever. If it meant that he looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he ever laid his eyes on, then you would be his doll for as long as you lived.

Maybe it wasn’t perfectionism at all, but an act of complete devotion—an act of love.

Sunghoon left open-mouthed kisses along your chest and moved further and further down until the lace of your lingerie blocked his lips from your skin. He pulled away from you fully and looked down at it like he was offended. You squirmed beneath him, your chest heaving as you tried to take in any air that you possibly could. “Please,” you inhaled, looking up at him desperately.

You weren’t quite sure what you were begging for exactly; maybe for his lips to be back on your skin, or maybe for him to quell the heat radiating from your body. “Please,” you said again, your voice coming out quieter and more forlorn.

Sunghoon ran his hands underneath the sheer fabric at your stomach and you gasped at his touch. “So soft,” he sighed contently, hands trailing further up until they physically couldn’t anymore and were blocked by the lace at your breasts. His calloused hands were a stark contrast to your velvety skin and the slight roughness made you shiver.

He pushed the sheer fabric up your stomach with the movement of his hands until the bottom half of your body was completely bare under him. Sunghoon must’ve decided that he couldn’t wait any longer, couldn’t bear to take the extra second to lift the lingerie over your head, because the harsh sound of fabric ripping filled your ears and the swift coldness of sudden exposure had you gasping again.

Sunghoon tossed the tattered fabric somewhere off to the side next to the two of you and in the corner of your eye you saw it fall to the floor below. His hands surged upwards, no longer bound by the restraints of your lingerie, and grabbed your breasts. Sunghoon’s thumbs rubbed against your hardened nipples and you arched your back off the mattress to give him more access. His hands dropped down to your thighs and he pushed them towards your stomach as he spread them further apart.

Sunghoon’s breath hitched when his eyes finally got a look at your glistening pussy, completely on display for him. His hand then moved from the back of your thigh and he dragged his fingers through your folds, collecting the slick on his fingertips. “Perfect,” Sunghoon breathed out.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he did to you every night—left you in a heap before cleaning you off and making you new again. You didn’t care, you just liked the feeling of his hands on you, even if its intention was to destroy. You knew that it was just a morbid curiosity. As long as he remained by your side, you were content in being a pile of doll parts for him to play with as he pleased.

In your bedroom, your eyes landed on a doll that wasn’t there when you had stepped into the bathroom. It sat in the center of your bed, dressed in the same lingerie that Sunghoon had ripped up. It didn’t look at you, but at the entrance of the room, with the hint of a smile that you knew was carved into the doll but couldn’t help but feel was mocking.

No matter how often it happened, you’ll never get used to the fact that the dolls moved around on their own. It only happened when you were home alone. The dolls never dared to move when their maker was home, but you still felt their eyes on you nonetheless. You had told Sunghoon about it—the two of you even waited around to see if one of them would move, but they never did. It was extremely frustrating.

You sighed at the doll and straightened your back. Leaving said doll where it was without a word, you left your room to put a start to your day.

What you weren't expecting was even more moved dolls in your kitchen. You stopped in your tracks as different, mini, and almost identical versions of you stared directly at you from the kitchen table in a circle. Usually it was only one doll that moved here and there, but this many moved dolls in the span of minutes was completely odd. Cautiously, you stalked towards them to see what they were surrounding.

It was the TV remote. You scoffed.

You grabbed the remote with a roll of your eyes. Aiming it towards the tiny box TV in the kitchen, you clicked it on and placed the remote back down onto the table next to the dolls. You let whatever channel it was left on play in the background as you started making breakfast for yourself.

“We’re here with the mother of one of those young girls today. Can you tell us a little about your daughter, ma’am?” you heard the news reporter ask. You took a pan out from under the lower cabinet and placed it onto the stove, ticking on the heat. You watched as a flame ignited, quick and large as lightning, before calming to something smaller.

A grief stricken voice filled your ears next between your soft humming. You didn’t realize that it was the tune Sunghoon always hummed when working from home—something he didn’t do as often anymore. “She was the most beautiful girl in the world—the most gentle and kind. She loved everyone and she loved love. My daughter was the single spark in this bleak night. Please, if you know where she is, please let a mother know.”

You moved about the kitchen, ignoring the way the dolls’ eyes seemed to follow your every move. Cracking the egg, you let it fall into the pan with a sizzle, fanning away the sudden smoke that rises. “The news station also has an anonymous tip hotline open for anyone who may know any information. The search for the six missing girls is still on. This Friday, the mayor will hold another search party and encourages everyone who can to join.”

Turning to throw away the shell of the egg, you caught a glimpse of the TV. “This has been—” You gasped, the shell falling to the tile below with a soft crack as your hand flew to cover your mouth. On the small screen were the pictures of the six missing girls—six missing girls who all looked eerily alike to one another, eerily alike to you. You rushed forward towards the screen, desperately needing to get a closer look at the girls’ image.

Fear and panic prickled at your skin and clawed its way up your throat. What if you were next? What if whoever was taking these girls had their eye on you to take next? You glanced around the kitchen, the dolls suddenly gone from the kitchen table and perched back in their rightful places on various shelves. What if one day you stepped out of your home to run an errand only to be met with a cloth to your nose and mouth?

You began to tremble as you focused your attention back onto the TV. Did the police have anything on who was taking the girls? Any physical descriptions or perhaps a drawing? You waited for the news to mention anything else, but they didn’t. 

Lightheaded, you felt yourself begin to spiral. Your hands grabbed tight to the kitchen counter as you tried to steady yourself and not let the fear cloud your mind. Maybe it was all a coincidence. Maybe you just happened to look like those girls but the perpetrator was after someone else. You inhaled sharply, trying to swallow down the fear and panic and let the oxygen get through instead.

The sudden loud ringing of the smoke alarm startled you and made you jump. The eggs. They were still on the stove! “Oh!” you breathed as you hurriedly moved to turn off the stove. You accidentally stepped on the egg shell in the process. “Oh no,” you said softly under your breath as you moved from the stove to the trash can. You scraped off the burnt eggs, your appetite suddenly gone. You sat the pan in the sink for you to wash later.

Bending down, you meticulously picked up the pieces of egg shells on the floor to throw away as well. When you turned from the trash, there was a singular doll back on the kitchen counter. You jumped again.

It pointed towards the hallway to get to your living room, unblinking. You stared at it for a moment—at yourself. Why were the dolls doing this? “Fine,” you say, smoothing out your dress, “I’ll play along.” You need a distraction from the missing girls anyhow.

You left the kitchen and made your way down the hallway that the doll pointed to. As you slowly made your way down it, you didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary besides the way the various dolls’ eyes followed you. You make the bend to the end of the hallway and freeze.

At the end of the hallway was the displayed dollhouse that you didn’t touch. Sunghoon didn’t even let you clean it, opting to clean it himself. It meant a lot to him and he took great care for it to be in as pristine condition as possible. The dollhouse was a perfect replica of your home, down to the welcome sign you weaved on the front of the door. You’ve never even seen the inside of it… until now.

There was a crowd of dolls on the ground below it, more than you’ve ever seen moved before, pointing up at the scene portrayed in it. Swallowing thickly, you stepped further forward as a chill ran down your back.

In the dollhouse were only three dolls: one of you, one of Sunghoon, and one that you couldn’t even begin to understand what it could be. You took another cautious step forward, leaning in to get a better look and taking care to not step on any of the dolls. The scene depicted in the dollhouse was quite simple. You were upstairs in you and Sunghoon bedroom, asleep. Sunghoon was in some room you’ve never seen before, carving away at a doll that you could only assume was of you. Behind him was the other doll, covered in different, mismatched layers of fabric. It was so covered by copious amounts of fabric that it didn’t even seem to have the body of a doll anymore. It was almost grotesque looking, in a way.

Very quietly, almost indistinct, you heard the same melody Sunghoon hums when working. Your eyes widened in shock as you furiously tried to digest and decipher the scene. You shook your head a little. “I don’t understand,” you say, the confusion dripping from your voice. “What does this mean? What is that behind him?”

There was a creaking behind you and you swung around at the sound. More dolls were behind you, pointing. You weren’t sure if they were pointing at you or the dollhouse. Maybe it was both. You swung back around to the dollhouse when you heard something move.

Now Sunghoon was in front of the other fabric-covered doll. His doll was slightly bent at the torso and his head was tilted. The thin, wire-framed glasses he wears sat low on his nose bridge. You knew that look—that inspecting look. That morbid curiosity. It felt as if the dolls were screaming at you, “Do you understand now?” You still weren’t sure that you did. Too many puzzle pieces were missing from the board and it hindered you from seeing the whole picture. The sound of Sunghoon’s humming still filled your ears and you didn’t know what to do to stop it.

More creaking and you turned to look behind you. More dolls. They filled the entire hallway, their tiny fingers pointing at you, trying to force you to understand what they were trying to show you. Behind you, the dollhouse began to violently shake and you gasped as you looked at it. Sunghoon was now back in the bedroom with you. He stood over you, his hand hovering over your arm. You knew the action it was trying to convey—you could feel the tips of his fingers trailing up and down your actual arm now, making you shiver.

You stumbled backwards, even more confused and scared at the shaking dollhouse. The front of the dollhouse slammed shut, locking in the scene of you and Sunghoon inside, and stilled. Your chest rose and fell heavily and you clumsily stumbled your way out of the hallway and into the living room, avoiding any pointing doll that you could.

Later that day when Sunghoon came home from work, you didn’t mention the moving dolls or the dollhouse. It was as if nothing happened at all, every doll was where he placed them and the dollhouse was just as pristine as he left it. You especially didn’t dare mention the scenes depicted in the dollhouse. You feared your husband would think you were crazy.

You carried the plate of hot food to where Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table. “Eat up!” you smiled placing the plate in front of him before placing a chaste kiss to his cheek. You felt him smile before you pulled away. You were turning to make yourself a plate when Sunghoon grabbed your wrist to stop you. You jumped, a gasp slipping between your lips. Trying to cover it all up, you turned back to Sunghoon with a smile.

His own smile faltered and his thick brows drew together. “Thank you, darling…” he trailed, the words falling from his lips one by one. “What’s wrong? You’re never so jumpy.”

You’d been jumpy since he got home, still shaken from the morning’s encounter. It was so bad that you nearly burnt yourself on the stove while making dinner, suddenly startled by the sound of the front door opening and Sunghoon returning home from work. When he kissed you hello, his arms coming to wrap around you, you jumped then too. You tried to distract him with your smile, but you should’ve known that nothing gets past your husband.

“It’s nothing,” you say, smiling again and giving him a slight shake of your head. “I guess my body is just getting used to not being by itself now that you’re home.”

Sunghoon sighed and pulled you back towards him by your wrist. You let yourself be pulled into his lap. Sunghoon buried his head in the crook of your neck. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words coming out muffled. “I know I've been working more and more lately and I haven’t had much time for you.”

You leaned into his touch, sighing contentedly. “Can’t you work from home?” you asked meekly, voice barely louder than a whisper, “Like you used to? You work so much and you’re always gone. I miss you when you’re not here, and in return I’m sad the whole day.”

Sunghoon’s black hair tickled you as he lifted his head to press his lips to your neck, right where the thumping of your heart could be felt. His eyes met yours and the gentle pout of your lips. “I don’t have all the tools here that I do at the shop,” Sunghoon responded. When you sighed again and looked away, he continued. “But, I might be able to work from here tomorrow… I already finished most of the workload. We can spend tomorrow together, what do you say to that?”

You glanced back at him, trying to not let the happiness you felt break through your sulky demeanor. Clearly, it didn’t work, because the smile returned back to Sunghoon’s face even larger this time. “I suppose that’s okay,” you grumbled, the smile tugging more at your lips by the second.

Sunghoon chuckled, “Yeah?” You nodded, giggling at the way he dragged his nose along your cheek and the coldness of his glasses. “I love that sound,” he says, holding you closer. “I want to hear it forever.” He pulled away from you just enough to get a good look at your flustered face. Sunghoon brought his lips to yours, capturing them in a sweet and slow kiss.

Giggling more into the kiss, you broke away from him with great effort. “Eat,” you say, standing to your feet. Sunghoon didn’t let you get far. “We have a big day tomorrow.”

“Your dinner smells amazing, my love, but I think I want something else on the menu,” Sunghoon replies. You swatted him with the kitchen towel hanging from the pocket of your apron, your mouth falling into an open-mouthed laugh. Sunghoon just laughed more. “Do what I said,” you scolded him.

Sunghoon pulled you down to chastely kiss your lips. “Yes, ma’am.”

That night as you were getting ready for bed, you gathered all the courage you had. As you moved about your bedroom, Sunghoon watched you from the bed, his eyes trailing your figure and never leaving it. He was lounged up against the bed frame, his head tilted and the wire frames of his glasses low on his nose bridge as he stared. You were in the middle of brushing your hair, trying your best not to get crushed underneath his heavy stare. You were as bare as you could be without taking your clothes off.

When you stood from your vanity, the flowy fabric of your short nightgown moving with you, you met his gaze. For a moment, neither of you spoke and you just stared at each other. “Those missing girls…” you started, finally finding your voice, “on the news… Isn’t it odd that they favor me?” Your voice shook slightly and you swallowed down the lump forming in your throat.

Sunghoon sat up straighter, his eyes still on you as his brows drew together. You looked away, shakily climbing into the bed next to him. “I-I mean… how they favor each other. And I favor them too, don’t you think?” you continue. You really hoped that you didn’t sound crazy. That your time alone in the house hasn’t started to drive you mad and see things that aren’t there—that aren’t true. Finally getting settled as the words poured from your mouth, you looked over to him. For a split second, his face was completely devoid of anything—no emotion, not even a quirk of his eyebrow, nothing. Then, in a blink of an eye, his face was how it was before you looked away from him. Maybe you were crazy after all.

“I’m scared, Sunghoon,” you said in the gentlest whisper, “What if I’m next?”

“Missing girls?” Sunghoon says, “I’ve heard about them. But, don’t worry—” he reached over to caress your cheek “—I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe here, with me.” His hand on your cheek trailed down to the crook of your neck and then to your shoulder before he pulled you towards him. The two of you laid down onto the bed and Sunghoon enveloped you completely in his arms. You rested your head on his chest and listened to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “No one but me will ever touch you,” Sunghoon muttered against your hair.

His comforting words did nothing to dispose of the uneasy feeling you still harbored. The images of those missing girls were burned into your mind and every time you tried to close your eyes and sleep, you saw them staring back at you. While Sunghoon fell fast asleep, him still keeping you protectively in his arms, you lied awake.

Your mind shifted from the missing girls, to the moving dolls, and to the dollhouse. What did it all mean? What were they trying to tell you? You went over the scenes portrayed over and over and over again and still didn’t get it. The answer seemed so close, but so far away at the same time. What were you missing?

You thought about the scene of Sunghoon standing over you while you slept. Did he always do that, stare at you like that? How often did he do it? You wanted to ask him, but you didn’t want to risk him thinking there was something wrong with you—didn’t want to risk him thinking that you weren’t flawless like he believes. And the way he trailed his fingers over the soft skin of your arm… Perhaps it was just him checking on you. Maybe he left the room for some water and when he came back he was making sure you were okay. Yeah, that sounded logical.

Him touching you wasn’t something new—he always touched you at any chance that he could. Always admiring every curve and plane of you completely, it’s normal for him to do so. The tension in your shoulders finally dissipated and you relaxed, snuggling more into Sunghoon as you let your tired eyes flutter closed. You didn’t know what the dolls’ game was, but you didn’t like it. Sunghoon was just being a good husband, is all. It even showed subconsciously in the way his hold on you tightened as you leaned into him. He loves you. He’d never do anything that came remotely close to hurting you, ever. You were more sure about that than you were sure about anything in the entire world.

Slowly, you began to drift off—your body getting heavier and heavier in his arms—and you let sleep overtake you.

A couple hours later, you were suddenly awoken by the sound of something falling onto the hardwood floor. You jumped, eyes flying open. You were met with the cold bed, Sunghoon nowhere to be found in your bedroom. Sitting up, you looked around the room to see what fell.

You sighed as your gaze landed on the doll, it was laying on its side on the ground, staring at you. “Enough,” you said lowly, another sigh pulling from deep within you. “I don’t know what you all want from me.”

The moonlight peeked into your bedroom through the curtains and gave a little light to see with in the dark. You slipped from the bed, deciding to see where Sunghoon was. Smoothing down your bedridden hair and wrinkly nightgown, you opened the door to your bedroom and was immediately met with another mini doll version of you waiting by the top of the stairs. You couldn’t keep doing this.

You passed the shelves on the wall filled with dolls of you and other trinkets as you made your way towards the stairs. You didn’t even give the doll a second look as you made your descent down them.

Sunghoon wasn’t in the kitchen either, but there was another doll there, pointing down the hall again. You tilted your head up at it and followed its directions. He wasn’t in the lounge room or the dining room either. You turned the corner in the hallway and your eyes landed on the closed dollhouse. It was backlit by the hallway sconce, the light making the dollhouse look illuminated.

You dipped into the living room and Sunghoon wasn’t there either. None of the bathrooms were occupied as well. You were convinced that he just wasn’t in the house at all. You stood in front of the dollhouse, annoyance coming off you like steam. Your arms were folded across your chest and you glared at it. It was closed this time, and you were deciding on whether it was not to play into the dolls’ game and open it or just go back to sleep and question Sunghoon in the morning. Alas, you were too curious for your own good.

You slowly opened the front of the dollhouse, expecting to see some confusing scene waiting for you inside. Instead, there was only one doll inside—the grotesque looking one covered in different scraps of fabric. It was in the same exact place that it was in earlier, except this time there was no doll of Sunghoon inspecting it. It was alone.

Taking a closer look, you tried to figure out where this mystery room supposedly was in your home. In the dollhouse, it was located between the living room and the hallway bathroom. You looked at the hallway you were currently standing in with its own mini dollhouse inside. Your brows knitted together in even more confusion. According to the dollhouse, the room should be right where you were standing.

That couldn’t be right, unless the room was in front of you and behind the wall where the dollhouse was displayed. Closing the front of the dollhouse, you moved closer to the wall, inspecting it. There was no outline of a suspected door, no uneven floorboards that could suggest the entrance was underneath you. There was only the hallway, the small bookshelf filled with your cookbooks and Sunghoon’s doll making books, and the dollhouse. You placed your ear against the wall; maybe if there was a room behind it you could hear something.

After a few moments, you almost gave up, deciding not to play the game anymore and just go to bed. But, right when you were about to lift your ear from the wall, you heard something—humming.

It was the same tune you hummed earlier, the same tune Sunghoon hums when working. The same tune Sunghoon hummed when the dolls showed you him working in the dollhouse. This time, you knew it was real. You stumbled backwards from the wall, your elbow knocking the doll over that was suddenly perched there. You gasped before quickly covering your mouth.

Frozen in fear, you swear you heard the humming abruptly stop. You then heard slight creaking, like someone was walking towards you. Scurrying back around the curve of the hallway, you peaked around it to see if anything else would happen.

What if Sunghoon wasn’t even in there. What if it was some stranger living in your walls, and you were just assuming that it was him—that the dolls thought it was him. Or, maybe they were trying to warn you of the stranger in a way that they knew you would listen. What if Sunghoon wasn’t in the house at all right now? Your hand pressed harder into the wall and you began to shake.

More creaking broke through the air, and you watched as the small bookshelf slowly began to push off the wall like a make-shift door. You ducked further behind the wall, just enough to ensure you weren’t seen. You saw a shadow dancing across the floor as the bookshelf slowly closed again.

You were so scared they could hear how fast your heart was beating. So sure that they could feel how hard you trembled through the floor. Hear your heavy breathing like a hawk listening for its prey.

The shadow got larger and you saw a figure start to be illuminated by the light on the wall. A hand reached from the shadows and towards the doll of you that had fallen over—Sunghoon’s hand. He stepped into the light and you could finally see him clearly; saw the way the warm light bounced off his skin, the way the light reflected off his glasses, and how his dark hair fell into his eyes. You pressed your fist to your mouth to keep quiet.

Why did Sunghoon have a secret room in the house? Why did he never tell you about it?

He fixed the doll; shifting its dress so it laid properly and flattened its messed up hair. You saw the corners of his mouth raise as he placed the doll back on the shelf above the dollhouse. It’s big eyes bored into you.

Without a sound, you made your way back to your bedroom as quickly as you could. You closed your bedroom door silently and slipped back into bed, willing your body to stop shaking and your breath to even out. You closed your eyes.

You tried to remember what the inside of the secret room looked like from the dollhouse. From what you could remember, it looked to be some sort of workshop, similar to the one Sunghoon would have at the shop. If it was just a simple place for him to carve dolls, why hide it? It was possible he kept it hidden so you wouldn’t worry about how much he was working. Sunghoon knew how much you disliked him getting obsessed with his work, always carving and shaping dolls until the tips of his fingers were scarred. You relaxed again.

You’d be upset and worried, yes, but he didn’t have to hide it from you. You would understand his dedication to his craft.

A couple moments later, you heard the door knob twist. As you heard Sunghoon’s footsteps near you, you hoped you looked like you were still asleep. His presence covered you like a blanket. Just before you could feel the heat of his fingertips on your skin, you turned to look at him.

With false sleepiness in your voice, you ask, “Why are you out of bed?”

Sunghoon smiled down at you, lightly shaking his head. His hand caressed your shoulder, “Don’t worry about it, my love. I was just getting a jumpstart on work so we could have more time together. Go back to sleep.” His voice was soft and gentle, like he was trying to lull you back to sleep with his voice alone.

You sat up more. “Well, I’m not tired anymore,” you say, a smile pulling at your lips. Sunghoon’s hand at your shoulder raised to smooth your hair before coming to your chin to lift it up. He leaned forward and delicately pressed a kiss to your lips. “No?” he asked in that same soft and gentle voice.

Sunghoon was already climbing on the bed and on top of you before finishing his question. He placed more delicate kisses around the edges of your mouth, his hands dipping lower. You shook your head. His hands slowly lifted your nightgown up your stomach. “You’re sure you aren’t tired anymore?” Sunghoon asked, the corner of his mouth raising ever so slightly. He was lifting the nightgown over your head so you were in nothing but your panties underneath him.

Light giggles left your mouth as you shook your head again, “Yes.”

Sunghoon’s fingers hooked underneath the hem of your panties and he slowly pulled them down your thighs. His eyes were completely focused on the way each tug revealed more and more of your cunt and how it glistened with the strips of moonlight coming through the window. You heard him exhale softly, like he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. “Fuck…” he muttered lowly, “I don’t think I’ll ever get use to seeing this, and it’s all for me to admire.”

He fully pulled your panties off and tossed them somewhere to the side of the bed. Sunghoon spread your legs open and pushed them up towards your chest so he got an even clearer view—just like he always did before taking you apart. He moved his hands so they splayed out on the back of your thighs right near your pussy he was still admiring. You squirmed a little, the air suddenly cold on your skin and from laying there completely open for him as you waited. “Entirely,” you said hushed, looking up at him. His glasses reflected the moonlight and covered the look in his eyes. “It will always be all for you—I’ll always be all, entirely yours.”

You gasped, body jolting when a thumb was pressed into your eager cunt. Sunghoon ran his thumb along your folds, collecting the gathering slick that was forming by the second. Bringing his other thumb to your cunt, he spread you apart even more, like he wanted to watch the arousal drip out of you himself. A soft whine left your lips. You were completely naked and under your husband’s watchful eye while Sunghoon was still completely dressed. He hasn’t even pulled his pajama pants down despite the way you saw him strain against the thin fabric.

“Is that so?” Sunghoon asked, his gaze finally flicking up to you. The corners of his mouth twitched upwards and you inhaled sharply when you finally saw that all too familiar dark look in his eyes. It reminded you of the way people dissected animals, excited to see its insides and how the body worked. Just beneath it you saw his intensely desperate, fiery hot need for you. The two expressions folded on top of each other over and over like an endless piece of paper, like he couldn’t decide what made him more excited. But, you knew which one would win tonight—which one always won.

You nodded slowly at his question. After all, no matter how bitter the idea of perfection tasted in your mouth, it was nothing compared to the sweetness of your husband’s love. It overshadowed everything, clouded your mind until you could think of nothing else. You lived for it, you’d do anything for it—to keep it. And Sunghoon, he loved you for it. So, the cycle continued until you forgot what the bitter aftertaste even belonged to.

Was it so wrong for you to love the suffocating attention he gave you once he wasn’t busy? Maybe. Maybe you should feel some shame for how obsessed you were with Sunghoon. But, at least you knew the feeling was mutual. If it weren’t, you wouldn’t be surrounded by a house full of dolls that looked nearly identical to you made all by his hands. Right? Doll making was a labor of love, and Sunghoon never shied away from showing you how much he loved you.

Sunghoon leaned over you. You felt his arms brush against your thighs as he pushed his soft pajama pants down. His face hovered over yours and you stared at him with big, doe eyes. His lips brushed against yours, pulling away slightly when you tried to chase them. Sunghoon tossed his pants and boxers to the side and you felt his cock slap against your thigh, sending a wave of arousal throughout your entire body. The entire time, Sunghoon’s eyes never left yours. “Like my own, personal little doll,” he continued, his voice low. “The real thing, not any of these flawed imitations. Complete perfection, and all under my hands to do with as I see fit.”

His lips captured yours in an unexpectedly rough, hungry kiss. He moved further over you until his body shadowed you. His hands were on either side of your head as he pinned you to the bed with his body, the kiss deepening and growing hungrier. Sunghoon pulled away from you, lips plumped and wet with saliva that still connected his lips to yours. He tenderly caressed your cheek and asked, “Do you know how much I love you?”

With his other hand, Sunghoon grabbed his cock so he could line himself up with your entrance. He quirked a thick eyebrow as he waited for your answer, eyes trailing the way your chest rose and fell heavily and your breasts pushed more against his own chest. “How much,” he continued, slowly slipping the tip of his cock inside you, “I’d do for you? How I’d do anything?” Your mouth fell open as your back arched slightly at the action. Sunghoon’s gaze returned to you, his hips halting once his thick tip was completely inside you. “Do you?” Sunghoon asked you once again, his heavy gaze weighing down on you.

Your husband liked to dissect things. He liked to break things apart and put them back together all shiny and new. It’s what he couldn’t help but do to you every night. It was the only time he liked you to be messy, when you were laying in a heap of doll parts beneath him. He tried to be gentle with his curiosity, he really did, but it was as if something overtook him. That dark look in his eyes got bolder until he couldn’t hold himself back—until he just had to tear you apart. You used to be scared every time it happened, still not learning to expect it. You should be ashamed that you did let it happen. But, as time went on, you began to like being taken apart; began liking how each time you’d blink away the fog, you were more perfect in his eyes.

Nodding, you inhaled deeply. “I do,” you say quietly, meeting his swirling dark stare. “And I love you just as much. I’d do just as much.”

“No,” Sunghoon spoke plainly. You drew your brows together, confused. “The way I love you, it’s… cavernous. Deep and dark—pitch-black. There is no end, no beginning, it just is.” His hand trailed down to your chin. “It consumes me, my love for you. I can’t control it… I can’t control the things I’d do to ensure you’ll always love me. And you will… won’t you? Always love me?” Sunghoon asked, his eyes boring into yours.

“Yes,” you say meekly. Despite the way Sunghoon’s body blocked the little light in the room, you could still see the way he fought the darkness inside of him. “I’ll forever love you. There’s nothing that would ever change that, Sunghoon. I promise.”

Sunghoon’s body relaxed over you, and his eyes briefly fluttered shut as he shakily breathed in to further calm himself. “Good…” he muttered, his voice barely loud enough for you to hear despite him being so close. “Because sometimes… The thought of you no longer loving me… i-it drives me completely insane.” His grip on your chin tightened and he bent down to sloppily kiss your lips. Sunghoon’s lips slowly worked against yours, like he was using you to calm himself even more. Like he was basking in your love for him like you did with his love for you.

He pulled away, just enough that with each word from his mouth, his lips brushed against yours. “It makes me want to rip you limb from limb. Polish all the parts so you can see it—see how much my love for you breaks me apart.” With a harsh thrust, Sunghoon pushed himself into you completely. You cried out, the sound being muffled by his lips so close to yours. Your nails dug into his shoulders at the action. Sunghoon pulled out of you until just the fat tip of his cock remained inside. With each word, he thrusted into you. “My sweet love, my perfect wife, my doll.”

Loud gasps rang from your mouth and Sunghoon took your hands from his shoulders and pinned them above your head with one of his own. His eyes never once left yours. He wanted to see how you cracked and shattered beneath him. He wanted to witness it. Sunghoon trailed his other hand down the side of your face, his thumb running over the soft skin of your cheek before it moved closer to your mouth. His eyes shined when he dipped his thumb into your mouth and you eagerly swirled your tongue around it, his own mouth opening. Sunghoon’s pace slowed as if he was remembering himself. The languid strokes drove you crazy and your hips lifted off the bed to gain more friction.

It was a constant back and forth of back to back harsh thrusts that felt like it was splitting you open to slow, sweet thrusts that had you begging for more. With your arms pinned about you, you couldn’t even really move besides the slight lift of your hips, and they could only lift so high with how close Sunghoon pressed himself into you. He had complete control over you; over how you moved, how deeply and at what pace you felt him, and over what sounds you made with his thumb in your mouth. Your eyes began to get glassy with how much you wanted him.

You guessed that you liked being used—liked being his toy, his plaything. You guessed that you liked feeling desired, feeling like his doll. You glanced around your bedroom, back arching and loud, unashamed moans falling from your lips at the way Sunghoon fucked you. It felt as if every single doll was looking at you, watching you. Watched you succumb to your husband and watched as the cracks in your porcelain body began to crumble. Watched how you loved every second of it. How wet it made you to the point that Sunghoon was slipping in and out of you with ease and how the vulgar gushing sounds bounced off the walls.

Sunghoon’s pace slowed and he watched how his cock slowly disappeared into you before he slowly pulled it back out and examined how it dripped with your arousal. A soft chuckle left his parted lips as he did it over and over. You clawed at his arm still holding yours above your head, a loud whine came from the bottom of your throat and your body shifted in any way that it could to feel him deeper, to have his cock drag against your walls faster.

He replaced his wet thumb with his mouth, completely silencing your moans and whines. Sunghoon’s mouth worked slowly against yours once again, soft groans vibrating against your lips as he kissed you.

“You feel so good,” Sunghoon whined, barely able to get his words out before his lips were back on yours. He let out another moan, his shallow strokes growing quicker. “Taking everything I give you so well, my love. It’s like your body was made for mine.” Sunghoon finally let go of your arms, giving your body some space as his lips traveled down to your chest. He left wet kisses all over it, teasingly kissing around your perked nipples while you dragged your hands through his hair and pulled at the tips of the strands. Everytime his lips touched your skin it felt like white-hot coals were being placed on you where they touched. Sunghoon looked up at you over the rim of his glasses, lips pressed to your skin with a hint of a smile. “Do you feel good, darling?”

Sunghoon’s hips picked up speed, just barely, but enough to make your head spin wildly. His pace was agonizing and you were sure your frustration showed in how you tugged harder at his hair and pulled his head back and the way your hips pathetically raised to meet his. Sunghoon’s mouth opened and he let out a laugh. “Please,” you begged him, your eyes filled with unfallen tears, “please.”

He sat up, lips brushing against your skin one last time before he pulled away. Sunghoon pushed down on your hips with his hands to stop them from moving, his own still continuing at that agonizing pace. “Please, what?” he asked, head tilted to the side as he watched you squirm beneath him and claw at the bedsheets. “What are you begging me to do to you?”

You whined when his hands moved up to your waist and sent tingles throughout your body. Through your blurry, tear-filled eyes you could see his smile. Pitiful moans escaped your mouth and your chest rose and fell so heavily you would’ve thought you weren’t breathing at all—instead trying to gasp in gulps of breath. “Please,” you begged again. Sunghoon inhaled sharply at the way you clenched down on him, at how your whiny moans filled his ears and the way the corners of your eyes flooded with tears. He halted his movements and pulled out of you completely.

“No, no, no!” you cried and leaned up to reach for him. He pushed you back down to the bed gently. Sunghoon’s own breathing picked up as his wet cock hovered over you. He took one of your hands in his and guided it towards it. “I’ll continue once you can tell me—” his breath hitched once your hand wrapped around his thick length “—what you want.” Sunghoon guided your hand up and down his cock slowly, his hand tightening on top of yours so you squeezed him more. His breath shuddered as he watched your hand work, his stomach tightening every time your hand squeezed his mushroom tip. He moaned again at how easily your hand slipped over him from your arousal, and his moans grew louder when he’d move his hips to force your hand back down his length again and again.

“Tell me…” he breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed, once you still didn’t give him an answer. Sunghoon’s hands laid flat against the back of your thighs—right next to where you needed him the most.

“I… I-I want you…” you stuttered out, voice small. Sunghoon hummed in question, bringing his thumb to your clit. He rubbed circles into it at the same speed he moved his hips. You gasped, back involuntarily arching off the bed. Your hand paused mid-stroke of his cock before his hips rutting against it stirred you back into action. “Closer…” Sunghoon says through a grunt, “but, I’m going to need more than that from you, my love. Don’t you want to be good for me and do what I asked?”

A soft whine left his lips when you squeezed a little too much at the base of his cock. “I want to hear those pretty moans of yours as I fuck you with my cock… see your pretty face as you cum around it. Won’t you give that to me? Do you really want to settle for my fingers tonight, darling?” Sunghoon continued.

How could you tell him what you really wanted? Explain the deepest desire that you had right now? He told you about his inner battle with how much his love for you consumes him. He told you the things that it made him want to do. You wanted him to let go and do it. You wanted him to wipe you clean so you watched it all—saw it all. Enough with holding back—like he tried to do every single night without fail. It was no use when you both knew what was coming. You wanted him to lose control. You wanted that swirling darkness in his eyes to take over. You wanted him to do what he said he wanted to do if you didn’t feel the same way he felt about you. How do you express that to him?

“Do it…” you say, your words coming out strained. A sweet moan left your mouth and you looked him dead in the eyes as the tears finally slid down your hot cheeks. “I w-want you… to do it.” Your voice was just above a whisper, loud enough that only his ears could hear your words despite being the only two people in the entire house. You squeezed down onto his thick cock more as your wrist worked harder. The hand he wasn’t using to rub circles into your puffy clit grabbed your thigh tighter, his fingers surely leaving indents into the plush skin. Sunghoon’s head hung lowly as he tore his gaze away from yours and went back to watching your hand.

Sunghoon plunged two fingers deep inside your dripping entrance and you felt like you could finally feel the oxygen reach your lungs. He pushed them in and out of you, his gaze flicking over to his movements instead of yours to relish in the way his fingers came back out more and more wet. As his fingers curled inside you, causing breathy moans to leave your willing lips, you watched the way his stomach tensed and his hips faltered. Without saying a word, you could tell what was running through his mind right now. You could see his eyes grow more and more darker, fill up more and more with desire. Sunghoon finally looked back up at you, his wire-framed glasses low on his nose bridge. “Do what?” he asks, his voice just as quiet as yours was.

You didn’t have to say anything else. Sunghoon’s hips froze and his stomach tightened even more as a pretty moan ripped straight through him. His eyes fluttered shut, his fingering waned and you lifted your hips to chase his hand. Sunghoon’s warm cum shot all over your stomach and splattered up to your breasts in thick spurts. He let out another moan, this one dragging out from deep within him as his body finally relaxed. You helped him through it all—hand never stopping as he rode out his high and marked more of your stomach with his cum until you were painted a creamy white and he was completely empty.

His eyes blinked open and he looked down at how messy you were. Something in his demeanor shifted as his eyes grazed over you and you couldn’t tell what had changed until he looked at you. You inhaled sharply at his stare, your breathing picking up. His own chest still heaved from his recent release. Sunghoon took his wet fingers out from your cunt, taking a moment to drag them through your folds to spread your arousal even more, all while his eyes never left yours. Gone were the barriers that held him back, that darkness took him over full force.

Meek whimpers escaped your lips and you dug your nails into the bedsheet beneath you. “You like being my doll, don’t you?” Sunghoon asks. His voice was almost flat, and he was still speaking in that hushed tone. His expression was decidedly blank except for the subtle way his brows drew together. “Don’t you?” he asked a little louder when you didn’t answer him. His hands squeezed the back of your thighs and his fingers dug into the soft skin there. You timidly nodded, not daring to look away.

His hands relaxed and his thumbs brushed over where his fingers dug into you comfortingly, his eyes finally leaving yours. Sunghoon grabbed his cock and rubbed his flushed tip in between your folds, the wet sounds it made piercing the silent bedroom. “You know,” he starts, his voice no longer so low, “you really are truly flawless, doll. My muse…”

Sunghoon is already slipping back inside you before you can process the way his thick cock completely stretches you open. You cry out as more unshed tears fall from your eyes. He continues, “It angers me how much I can’t capture you fully. How none of these dolls can compare to the real thing—the real you. It makes me… so angry…”

He’s pulling back his hips as he speaks, the tip of his cock just barely leaving your pussy, before he roughly thrusts his cock back inside of you. Another loud moan emits from you and your vision blurs from more tears as your face gets hot. You could barely hear Sunghoon’s wry laugh over the sudden ringing in your ears.

Sunghoon’s pace is brutal, and you’re suddenly regretting whining so much about how slow he was once going. It gave you whiplash, how fast he fucked into you, and the only thing you could do to keep yourself grounded is tightly wrap your hands around his wrists at your hips. Your arms smeared and got sticky with his cum but you didn’t care. With each thrust, your body shook and pushed you further into the mattress. With your iron-clad grip on Sunghoon’s wrists, your tits pushed together and bounced in accordance with his hips against yours. Sunghoon was fucking you like he wanted to break you in half.

“S-Slo—” you tried to speak but was cut off by the waves of sudden pleasure hitting you one after the other. Sunghoon just shushed you, his hands pulling your hips towards his so you’d feel him deeper. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and you couldn’t think about anything other than the way he was making you feel so, so good. You wanted to feel this way forever. Wanted him to stay lost so you never escaped this feeling of immense pleasure. Wanted him to use you to take out his anger at himself—at you—like you meant absolutely nothing, just a doll for him to handle and put back in its place.

You adore it, the way he makes you feel.

Such nasty sounds fill the air, but neither of you could bring yourselves to care about it. If anything, it turned you on more just how loud and demanding to be heard it was. With how much the sounds of the sex the two of you were having penetrated your ears, you would’ve thought that you’d be getting multiple noise complaints at any moment. You both definitely weren’t trying to be quiet in the slightest.

Between your moans, you heard Sunghoon speak. “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” His voice was almost scarily plain, like he thought this over time and time again before. You blinked away tears and finally got a clear view of him and the way he stared down at you with a hint of a smile, head tilted as he watched you crack and begin to fall into yourself. “Forever my perfect little doll, to bend—” he pushed your knees closer to your chest so you were practically folded in half “—and to break—” he roughly thrusted into you once more, his hint of a smile growing into a smirk as you clenched down on him “—and to put back together and play with as I please.”

“Sunghoon,” you sobbed as your stomach tightened and you started to shake. You didn’t get the chance to get another word out before you were violently orgasming, your cum pouring out of you and leaving a white ring around the base of Sunghoon’s cock as he roughly fucked it back into you. Wet, gushing sounds came from his cock plowing into your pussy and your cum poured out from around him and down the curve of your ass. You could scream at the sudden overstimulation.

“That’s my girl,” Sunghoon says as he watched you shatter. He used your hands still limply wrapped around his wrists to pull you up off the bed and halfway into his lap, his cock still buried within you. One of his hands supported your back and the other came to wipe the tears from your cheeks. “Pretty dolls don’t cry.”

Sunghoon brought your hands to his shoulders and you held tightly onto the soft fabric of his shirt. His own hands dragged down the expanse of your stomach and he wrapped one of his arms around your back. Sunghoon lowered his head so he could look you in your eyes, his free hand lifting your chin to raise your head more. “I love you,” he murmured, pausing a beat to make sure you heard him, before roughly moving his lips against yours and cutting off one of your watery whines.

Your hands moved from Sunghoon’s shoulders to wrap around his neck and pull him closer to you. You deepened the kiss, letting Sunghoon open your mouth so his tongue could slip in and dance with yours. You’d give anything to keep his lips on yours forever.

Sunghoon began to thrust into you again, his hips moving slow at first before they rapidly picked up pace. You moaned against his lips, your eyes squeezing shut. You felt Sunghoon’s lips pull into a smile, “I love you so much.” He said it like it was a confession.

Head falling into the crook of his neck, you cling to him tighter with your last remaining strength and whimper into his warm skin. Your body shook all over until it felt like you might explode. It felt like Sunghoon kept repeatedly turning and turning the winding key in your back, going way beyond the motor’s limitations. It made you nervous for when he would let go and you would burst into action.

His deep moans and grunts rang in your ear and his arm around your back tightened. With his other hand, he pulled you back so he could look at you. Your face was tear-streaked, splotchy with drying tears and you tried to not cry even more. Your brows were knitted together from the overstimulation and whimpers fell from your lips. Sunghoon’s cum stuck to your stomach and your forearms and parts of his shirt, your own cum covered your pussy and Sunghoon’s cock. You were a mess.

Over and over, three words came from Sunghoon’s lips like a mantra as he filled you up with his cum to the brim and past that too. “I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you, I—”

Finally, silence rang through the air besides both of your heavy breathing. After another moment, your body finally stilled. The silence was so thick that you felt like you couldn’t move at all. Delicately, like he held the shards of you in his hands, Sunghoon laid you back down onto the bed. He pressed feather-light kisses to your jaw and cheeks before they finally landed on your lips.

You were so overwhelmed with emotions and feelings that you couldn’t feel anything at all. Your head was still foggy and your only penetrating thoughts swirled around him. Despite your eyes being wide open, your vision was cloudy.

Sunghoon kissed you again. “Stay here,” he says, pushing away from you. Your arms fell to your sides limply. He leaned back and pulled his cock out of you, eyes shining with adoration at the way yours and his mixed cum spilled out and dirtied the bedsheets. Sunghoon rubbed the tip of his cock through it a couple times, ignoring how you squirmed and whined. “Absolute perfection,” he said under his breath before standing to his feet.

You laid there on the bed, still spread open and a mess of cum, as your eyes went in and out of focus. When the clouds in your vision did part, all you saw were all of the dolls and how they stared at you. Sunghoon came back a couple moments later, his face coming into focus as the moonlight bounced off his glasses. He climbed over you and began cleaning you up.

You were barely aware of the way he meticulously made sure every nook and cranny was polished nor how he moved you to put new bedsheets on the bed. Your mind didn’t start to come back to you until he was pulling you over him and sitting you onto his cock. You came alive at his hands trailing the expanse of your body before landing on your hips. You moaned quietly, your gaze dripping to look down at him. The darkness in his eyes was not quite all the way gone.

Sunghoon brought you down to lay on his chest. “I could fuck you all night…” he trails and his voice vibrates throughout your whole body as he shallowly thrusts up into you, “and into the morning, too.” His hips stilled and instead his fingers caressed your back. “But then we wouldn’t have the full day together, would we, my love?”

You shook your head slightly and Sunghoon wrapped an arm possessively over you before pulling the blankets overtop of you both, his other arm caging you against him completely. As the moonlight filtered through the window of your bedroom, the two of you slowly fell asleep.

In the morning, you were awoken by kisses on your neck and your pussy fluttering around Sunghoon’s slow strokes. He lifted your leg into the air and you turned your body towards the warmth at your back, blinking away sleep. You hummed, a soft whine pulling from your throat as you looked at him.

His glasses were off, which let you know that it hadn’t been long since he woke up himself. Sunghoon leaned down to press his lips to yours, his cock still dragging at a snail’s pace against your walls. “Are you sore?” he asks, pulling away from your lips to kiss your shoulder.

You nodded. Him still inside you, lazily fucking into you felt good, but you couldn’t ignore the way he stretched you open and the deep soreness that came from it. “A little,” you say.

Sunghoon turned you onto your back so you laid beneath him and he pulled out of you completely. “I’m sorry, my love,” he says and his lips meet yours again. “Let me make you feel better.”

He kissed your lips once more and started trailing kisses down to your jaw and along the length of your neck. Sunghoon looked up at you through the strands of his black hair, kissing lower down your body to your breasts, his hands massaging them as he kissed at your perked nipples. Soft moans left you at his touch.

His kisses spread to your stomach, to your hips, and finally right above where you were already wet for him. He spread your legs open more. “I’ll be gentle,” Sunghoon says, placing a kiss to your clit before his tongue poked out to lap at your entrance.

Without Sunghoon around, the idea of perfection was bitter on your tongue—acidic in your chest. But, when your beloved husband was around, finally in your arms again, you understood why people strive for it. You love it.

If perfection was how Sunghoon saw you, then you’d forever be the most absolutely perfect person, woman, wife you could be.

Days pass and you are once again left alone in the vastness of your home. Sunghoon stood true to his word as best as he could, spending as much time with you when he didn’t have to work, but it still wasn’t enough. The house still felt empty, and the occasional early nights when he would come home didn’t help.

It felt like the early nights home he took came at a price. Most nights when he would finally walk through the front door, you were already asleep or close to it. He would wake you up with a kiss and a content sigh. It made your chest ache even more than it already did when he is away.

You were in the middle of washing the dishes, mind trailed off to someplace else as you idly let the sounds of the TV float around you. “The search for the six missing girls is still going strong. Police still has not found the perpetrator, but an interview earlier with the Chief says that they are very close to finding out who has taken these girls. Our anonymous tip hotline is still up and running for anyone who may have any valuable information on where these girls might be.”

The words brought you back to life, and you gasped quietly as you looked towards the tiny screen. You examined the bold numbers at the bottom of the screen. It reminded you of the secret room behind the dollhouse that you completely forgot about. You quickly finished the dishes, leaving them in the strainer to dry completely as you dried your wet hands.

Slowly, you took quiet steps towards the hallway where the dollhouse was displayed. You looked to the front door to ensure that it was still locked. Sunghoon could walk through it at any moment and you didn’t want him to know that you knew about his secret workshop before you had the chance to see what was inside.

You recalled the way the door to the room opened—the pushed opened small bookshelf that revealed the make-shift door. You tip-toed to the bookshelf, examining its sides and the books on it.

You didn’t really look at the books on the bookshelf besides your own cookbooks. Sunghoon’s doll making books were something you rarely touched, if at all. But, you took a hard look at those too, your fingers running over the spines. They all felt like books, the spines hard and sturdy, but something about them still felt off to you. You looked at Sunghoon’s books again, pulling each one out a little to take a peek at the covers.

In the middle of you pulling one of the books, you heard a quiet click and the bookshelf came loose from the wall. You took a step back, shock showing all over your face. Gently, you grabbed the side of the bookshelf and pulled.

The bookshelf creaked open and revealed an opening that you had to bend down a little to enter. When you stepped inside the surprisingly large room, your eyes did a sweep of what was inside. You froze, your stomach dropping as you stared at what was in front of you, absolutely horrified. You didn’t even really know what was in front of you… It looked like an amalgamation of various body parts, stitched and sewn into one. Its skin was weirdly shiny, almost like it was made of some kind of plastic or resin while still keeping its elasticity.

You disregarded the rest of the room, instead taking careful steps towards the strange creation in front of you. It didn’t look neither dead nor alive and that confused you even further—it barely looked human. Its eyes and lips were sewn shut and it was completely hairless. It was held up onto its feet by long strips of silk hanging from the ceiling that was tied around its naked body. Next to where it stood was a table with thick locks of hair tied with ribbons of your favorite color.

Maybe this was the final crack in your mind and it was crumbling completely, but it kind of looked like you too. Even the hair on the table matched yours perfectly. If you looked past all the stitches, the weird shiny skin, and the lack of hair, it almost seemed like you were looking in a mirror. It looked like an unfinished, life-sized doll of you. Your stomach turned in on itself.

The fear in you raised tenfold in you when it started to twitch. You took a couple steps back from it when it began to pull on its restraints a little. It seemed to start to panic and its shiny arms pulled at the restraints keeping it up even more as it tried to reach out to you. You jumped back more, fearful tears filling your eyes. Your mouth opened to speak, but no words would come out.

The uncanny creation tried to speak, though, before realizing that its mouth was sewn shut. When it began to frightfully hum—the sound off tune and terrifying—did your body start to feel heavy and limp. It pulled at its restraints with all the little strength it had as it reached out to you and began to hum wildly… it hummed Sunghoon’s melody, the one he hummed when he worked.

Realization hit you like a tsunami. Not only was you dear husband making dolls of you, but he was trying to make a real, life-sized human doll of you. And it seemed that every part of this surreal creation was taken from another until it resembled you as close as he could get it. Your mind flashed to those six missing girls—the six missing girls that all looked eerily similar to you. Despite having all the puzzle pieces right in front of you, your mind refused to see the whole picture.

You backed up further, the back of your thighs hitting the desk that was against the back wall near the make-shift door. You twisted towards it, chest heaving as you scanned the scattered papers and opened books. You picked up what looked to be a journal Sunghoon kept and read over the open page with trembling hands.

The entry remarked at how the experiment was working well and how none of the body parts were rejecting like they did before. He praises how the process was much smoother than last time, how the girls he chose were the perfect fit. The journal dropped from your hands.

Those girls going missing due to Sunghoon was no longer speculation. Your eyes snapped back to his “experiment.” It must be those poor girls, their bodies sewn into one to look like you. You still didn’t want to believe it.

Tears poured from your eyes as fear sunk its claws deep within you and forced its way down your throat and into your heart. Your entire world came crashing down around you and quiet sobs left your mouth as you fought against the idea that your husband wasn’t who he said he was—that he was a kidnapper, a killer.

You rushed forwards, your arms raised towards his creation before you wrapped them around yourself and remained a safe distance. “No!” you exclaimed as you rapidly shook your head. “No, this is all a misunderstanding—a mistake! Sunghoon wouldn’t do this… He isn’t that type of person!” You wiped at your eyes, almost believing your own words until you dropped your hands.

Dolls completely surrounded the peculiar creation—Sunghoon’s experiment. It was even more that the ones that surrounded you in the hallway when they were showing you the scene in the dollhouse. They all looked at you for a moment before slowly turning to look up at how the amalgamation of stolen girls thrashed towards you, still frantically humming.

The dollhouse.

It was a warning. Those scenes the dolls showed you… it was all a warning. This was what they were trying to tell you this entire time. This wasn’t just any ordinary experiment for Sunghoon, a dollmaker going completely mad in his craft—no. This experiment was for you. He was using these girls, tearing apart their bodies limb from limb and creating some freakish doll of them that was meant to be you. It was practice… He was doing all of this so he knew exactly what to do when he laid his tools down and cut into the real thing. You were next.

Sunghoon’s words rang in your ears and bounced around in your head: “I want to take you apart, carve into you like I do my dolls, but this time make something real. Have you be so perfect forever.” You finally understood it now.

Suddenly, all thrashing ceased and the humming finally abruptly stopped. The only thing that filled the silence was your muffled sobs. “I’m sorry,” you cried, unsure if it even heard you. “I’m so sorry.”

You stumbled towards the opening of the room and barely missed hitting your head on the way out. You didn’t even wait for the bookshelf to click back into place before rushing through the hallway and to the kitchen. For once in your entire life, you hoped that Sunghoon had a long night at work.

Nearly falling into the kitchen counter, you shakily grabbed the landline on the wall. Those bold numbers of the anonymous tip hotline flashed behind your eyes and you rushed to put in the numbers, putting the ringing phone to your ear. “This is the anonymous tip hotline for the six missing girls. Please only share useful tips that could help a breakthrough in the case. Do you have any information to share?”

Your breathing came out heavy and you tried to force the oxygen to reach your lungs, inhaling sharply as you tried to find your words. “I… I-I think my husband kidnapped those girls…” you breathed in a whisper. The woman on the other end of the line started talking, but your focus was abruptly taken when you heard another, more familiar voice behind you.

“Something scare you, darling?” Sunghoon asks, his voice gentle and filled with worry. You couldn’t tell if he was being genuine.

You jumped, pressing further into the kitchen counter as you spun in place, the phone leaving your ear. Sunghoon sat at the kitchen table, his thick brows knitted together. You didn’t even hear him come back home. Despite the landline being away from your ear, you still heard the woman on the other end asking you questions, frantically asking if you were still there. You were completely frozen.

Sunghoon rose to his feet and the stove light illuminated him. You saw him differently now. No longer was he your loving husband, he was something else. Still, you hated the way your heart soared when you locked eyes on him. How your body relaxed, even in the slightest. You hated how you felt complete now that he was here and how you wanted to run into his arms.

He crossed the short distance to you, his arms coming to rest against the counter on both sides of you. You inhaled shakily now that you and Sunghoon were face to face. Without his eyes leaving yours, Sunghoon took the phone from your quivering hand and hung it back up on the wall. His arm returned to its position next to you, completely caging you within his arms.

Sunghoon leaned his forehead against yours. “I thought I told you that you had nothing to be afraid of, not when I’m here.” His voice was still gentle—soft—and it was lowered as he moved one of his arms to take one of your shaky hands in his. You wanted to pull away from him and wrap your arms around him simultaneously. You felt exhausted.

You voice shook, “Y-You kidnapped those girls, didn’t you? Turned them into… into…” Sunghoon drew back to look at you, his head falling to the side as his brows pushed together. His confused look made you start to question if you had been imagining everything—the dolls, the dollhouse, the hidden room, the experiment. “Into… what?” Sunghoon asks.

“...Into me!” you exclaimed, more tears running down your already wet cheeks as you choked out a sob. Sunghoon’s hand tightened around yours. “You killed them… and who knows how many others! Am I next? Are you going to kill me too?”

Sunghoon let go of your hand so he could cup your face with both of his hands, his thumbs wiping underneath your eyes to get rid of the fallen tears. “They aren’t dead!” he says. “And I swear to you that I’ll never hurt you, my love. You know that. Think of them as… reborn.”

You started to tremble in his arms and tried to shift away from him, but Sunghoon wouldn’t let you go anywhere. “Is that what you’re going to do to me? Was all of this—” you gestured around the room at all the dolls of you sitting pretty on the various shelves around the kitchen “—just practice for the real thing?” you spat out. You tried to move again, but Sunghoon’s hands dropped from your face to your upper arms to keep you in place.

“No!” Sunghoon started, his voice coated in disbelief that you would even ask him that as he shook his head. “No… can’t you see? This—” he used a finger to motion around the kitchen at the dolls “—is a reflection of how much I love you. My devotion to you. You, above anything else, above everything else. A peek inside my mind and how the only thing in there is you.”

“A-And that experiment of yours—the missing girls? Behind the wall?” you asked.

“That… is my dedication to you—m-my oath.” Sunghoon was completely desperate. He pleaded with you, his eyes wide and begging you to believe his words. His eyes were watery, like if you didn’t believe him he might cry as well, and he looked at you over the rim of his wire-framed glasses that slipped down his nose bridge.

You didn’t know what to believe. Didn’t know what to say. You just wanted to go upstairs with Sunghoon and lay in your bed and forget about everything that you’ve witnessed as he held you close to his chest. It was all too much, and your resolve was starting to crack and shatter. You wanted to smooth down your wrinkled dress and fix your messy hair, but Sunghoon didn’t let you move a single inch in fear that you would run from him. You couldn’t tell which one of you was more terrified.

His hands slid down from your upper arms and down to your hands, grasping them so tight that it started to hurt. “Come… Come with me…” he trailed, gulping thickly. You stared at him with wide, frightful eyes, suddenly unwilling to move, but Sunghoon desperately pleaded with you. He looked like he was seconds from getting down onto his knees. “Please,” he begged, pulling you into him, as his voice cracked. “You know I’d never do anything ever to hurt you.”

Sunghoon took a step back, hoping that you would follow after him, and you did. You let him guide you down the hallway all the way to the bookshelf and into the room behind it, his grip on your hands never once loosening. He led you in front of the uncanny image of you that he created. “I know how it looks,” Sunghoon says, his voice hushed. “But there’s no pain, no sorrow, nothing.”

It didn’t try to reach out to you like it did earlier and all the dolls that once surrounded it were gone. It didn’t hum that out-of-tune, terrifying version of the melody Sunghoon hummed when he worked either. It just hung limply from its silk restraints. “It just is,” Sunghoon continued. “And when it’s fully done, and completely polished, it’ll be flawless.” He delicately took your chin and guided your head to the side so you looked at him. Your body finally stopped fighting against itself and you relaxed in his grasp. “Like you are.”

Sunghoon leaned forward, hesitantly pausing to look at you again before bringing his lips to meet yours. He pulled you into him, his body wrapping around yours, and you timidly invited him in.

His lips felt so good against yours, and you knew that once you parted for air you’ll miss the feeling of them forever until he kissed you again. It felt right—it felt like home. The home where the two of you were always together and he held you like he was holding you now—like he was afraid that if he let go he would lose you. That if he didn’t hold you like a delicate porcelain cup you would chip and crack and shatter. And you would.

When Sunghoon’s lips moved against yours like they did in this moment, everything fell into place. All your worries slid off your back and for a brief minute, it was just the two of you in the whole wide world. Nothing existed but him, and his body enveloped in yours, and his touch that made you burn. And the flames danced so beautifully for him, didn’t they?

Just when you were about to pull away to quell the heaviness in your lungs, you felt a sudden sharp pain in your neck. You hissed, breaking away from Sunghoon’s lips just barely. Sunghoon chased your lips, holding the back of your head and pulling you closer against his body as he kissed you harder.

You whimpered against his lips, your nails digging into his arms as you tried to free yourself from his vice-like grip. It was no use, Sunghoon was never going to let you go. You felt your body grow heavy in his arms and he had to hold you up. Your vision began to spot black and fray around the edges, and your ears rang terribly. Just before you passed out completely, and over the ringing of your ears, you heard Sunghoon’s muffled voice as he kissed your neck where the pain stemmed.

“I love you. I love you so much that it hurts, I truly do.”

You fade in and out of consciousness as time passes around you. Sometimes you see blurred glimpses of Sunghoon, sometimes it's just an array of colors until you black out again.

You aren’t sure how long it’s been when your eyes finally do open and you remain conscious for good. Blinking away the blurriness in your vision, you examine how you're laying on the couch in your living room. Your entire body aches and it feels stiff. Your head is pounding and you almost close your eyes again to ease the pain you feel. You notice how you’re in different clothes and there’s a blanket over top of you. Too late do you notice the figure in your peripheral, and your eyes shift to look at them.

Sunghoon hovers over you, his expression a chaotic mix of hopeful, relief, and worry as he stares down at you. He’s wearing different clothes too, and his hair is a complete mess, like he’s been running his hands through it, and his glasses almost slide completely off his face. “Are you here, my love?” Sunghoon asks quietly. His voice sounds slightly hoarse.

You give him a confused look, pushing the blanket off of you and crying out from the pain you feel as you try and sit up. Sunghoon rushes to your aid, tossing the blanket to the side without a single thought, and helps ease you to your feet. Your gaze drops to your legs as he helps you stand and you notice how weird they look—shiny. There’s slight indented lines at your knees, too. You look at your arms and they’re the same.

You look doll-like.

Once you’re steadily on your feet, Sunghoon moves a step back to take you all in. You notice how done up you are and when you carefully raise a stiff and sore arm to your hair you feel how it’s styled. Your gaze lands on Sunghoon’s face, his eyes meeting yours.

His eyes are shining—completely full of love and pride. You’ve only seen him look like this when he first came to you with one of the dolls he made that looked the most like you, and when the two of you are in bed and his fingers are gently caressing your skin as he admires you. But, it was even more intense than in those scenarios. Confusion clouds you and you wait for Sunghoon to say something, and he does. One singular word.

“Perfect.”

[ kipo’s note . . . ] would it be wrong to say how i absolutely #needthat #desperately… like hehe yes i’ll be your perfect doll for you forever and ever and ever (๑´ω`๑)

𖥦 ﴾ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗈 . . . 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 , 𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ﴿ ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (´ε｀ʃƪ)♡

🏷️﹙ 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝗆𝗒 𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗆𝖺𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝖺𝗀𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍? 𝖼𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @hyukascampfire @xylatox @ghstzzn @izzyy-stuff @sunoosgfv @jihyokat @whosserina @jellymochii @innocygnet @sumsumtingz @riribelle @yeoningz @minaateez @beombunni @jiryunn @lvrs-street2mmorrow @everythingvirgoes @beomieeeeeeeeeeees @fancypeacepersona @deobitifull @tinycatharsis @strawberryshoujosundae

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[miiyas]

heian era sukuna who swears that all forms of love are futile and unnecessary. he feels it, he understands it, but he just finds it pointless to him.

heian era sukuna who took you in out of amusement after finding you lost in the woods, his demeanor displaying his usual loud and powerful self.

heian era sukuna who initially wanted to make you a maid, or perhaps a jester for his own entertainment, but went against it in the end. after all, it'll be a waste of such a pretty face, no ?

heian era sukuna finds you in the heart of his botanical garden, helping a few maids pick out an amount of fresh fruit that extends out of the branches. for the first time, sukuna finds you smiling and for the first time, he stares for a little longer.

heian era sukuna who then suddenly invites you to dinner almost every evening, a feast laid out in front of you across the long table. you're both sitting on opposite ends, and a frown itches on the corners of sukunas lips, his eyes rest on your face. you're frowning. why are you frowning ? you were smiling with the maids a while ago, so what's the difference now ? there's a whole feast that can't reach any imaginable standard to any human glutton, so why were you upset ? he pays no mind to it for the first few times, but if this is a continuous habit, he might as well make you a jester, and the thought of it cracks a grin on his hungry lips.

heian era sukuna who finds himself walking past the gardens more often, a place where he pays no mind to. if the botanical burned down, it'll take a few weeks for him to realize before dismissing the matter. but he cant help it. why cant he help it ? that much he rather not find out. you're always residing in the lush of green and herbs and flowers, picking away at fruit and taking stolen bites like eve being lured into the fruit of evil. and sukuna notices this. he notices every time. so it come to a shock of his own and yours when he comes up behind you, reaching out one of his four arms to grab for an apple you've been jumping for without a word, leaving and grumbling on what to make of you.

heian era sukuna who somehow gets to learn of your favorite flower and the lack of it in the garden from a maid. by the end of the week, there's an abundance of the species and sukuna claims that the garden was missing something, brushing you off with a lazy wave of his hand. but something he doesn't miss is the way your eyes shined. for once, there was something more than a subtle shadow forecasting over you, and a strange, disgusting feeling overwhelms him for a moment.

heian era sukuna who has the sudden, odd thought of reopening his love of poetry. his mind has been strumming a few haikus the past few weeks and it was all about you with the blend of comparing you to the gentle breeze of spring and the refreshing summer sun. he's writing again, uraume seemed to notice. all for a pathetic human he just so happened to pick up one day.

heian era sukuna finds himself picking fruit from his garden and greenery more often, all that just to be with you. he doesn't speak much, no, but his actions are growing more sincere, more observant. and he hates how there's a dull pang on the top left of his chest when you smile at him with such generous kindness and not the niceness that he has always been shown by villagers out of the fear of their death.

heian era sukuna understands love. he feels it, he knows what it is and yet has simply rejected it for years. and he wants to continue to reject it. continue to loath it with his whole being ... but god, youre making it so hard for him with that stupid smile and your silly remarks and the way you smell like fresh apples after leaving the garden ... why must you make him love the thing he hates ?

[wonderhomeland]

Someting someting

Alpha!simon x f!Omega!reader

Simon not knowing how to treat omegas, not in the traditinal way, he just take them when he need stress relief after a shitty mission.

So when he was told that they specified him a mate, he was confused. They weren't supposed to meet and sign documents in one go. The bound was often not done properly, and omegas were always harmed duo to the lack of attention from their alpha. Thats why they wanted to go back to the old ways. courting.

Courting process start with alpha presenting gifts to omega. and what can our boy buy for her? They were never met, nor given any idea of what she can possibly like.

So the only thing he could think of was one of his old hoodies. It wasn't tattered or torn, but it was clear he'd been wearing it for a long time. The black fabric had taken on the shape of his body, the slight stretch from his large bicep and massive chest, and most importantly, his scent all over it.

He didn't even think about how much it might scares her. Make her feel unsafe.

He always wore it when he was on leave. All of his thoughts, rage, worries, and negative feelings was remained on his hoodie through his scent.

And the size of it? a huge alpha with twisted mind.

The next phase of courting is basically dating. And after months, they start the third phase, chasing.

But since we dont have enough time, they are going to skip the second phase and go straight to chasing.

Usually, after sharing some time together, they become more familiar with each other's scents and can react better to them. But they haven't meet yet, so it's going to be more like a predator and prey then chase for bonding.

Clearing the base, they let the omega walk at the hallways and leave her scent every were, then release the beast. She must run and he must follow, but he freezes after smelling her sweet scent. dumb-struck, excited and aroused.

Like i said, simon don't know shit about tradition. imagine his sweet omega looking around, waiting, confused about what is going on, what should she be expecting but the alpha is nowhere to be found , she doesn't even smell anything to indicate that he is near.

Desperate, she decides to go back to her room and call Laswell. Explain what happened, maybe they can try again later. But the closer she gets to her room, the stronger the familiar -yet not-so-familiar- scent becomes. When she reaches her door, she realizes that Instead of following, catching and claiming her, her alpha has come towards her room, marked out a considerable radius with his own scent wall to prevent any alphas from getting close to her.

What a silly man he is...

-------‐----

Love alpha simon, fuck up man has to deal with his sweet omega that he craves but she doesn't want him :(

Pls conasider that im not a writter and english is not my first language! Tnx for reading till end♡.

[watermelonlovershigh]

can you please write something about reader maybe finding harry's stash of sex toys. maybe he uses them during solo play but she doesn't know about that because they're new to dating and he hasn't shared that with her because he's scared she'll judge him. but when she finds them she has a million thoughts running in her head. not knowing if they were for him or if he uses them on other people. with a cute ending of her being super cool with him using sex toys and doesn't judge him.

Finding Harry's Secret Stash of Sex Toys (SMUT)

AN: love, love, love this idea! it was fun to write. i may, key word, MAY write a part 2 to this. no promises though. keep in mind any mentions of sexuality is purely fictional and not real. hope you all enjoy and don't forget to leave your feedback.

This story contains: periods, mentions of sex toys, sex, confrontation, anxiety, comfort, mentions of sexuality, fluff

{ boyfriend!harry - softrry - au!harry - bi!harry }

word count- 1,744

While searching Harry's bathroom drawers for a period product, you discover his stash of sex toys. After waiting about a week, you confront him with all the questions you have about your discovery.

You and Harry have been together for nearly two months. During this time, you've become well-acquainted with each other; however, they're still certain things that you don't know about one another. This isn't due to any effort in hiding information, but rather because those specific matters haven't yet been relevant in any of your discussions.

------------------------------

It's a Friday night, and you're at Harry's house for the evening. He had purchased a pizza, and the two of you were comfortably seated in his living room, savoring the pizza and sipping on wine. About an hour after eating, while watching a film, you excuse yourself to the bathroom. In the bathroom, you realize your periods started and you didn't have any period products with you.

Knowing Harry is a mature adult, you promptly step out of his downstairs bathroom and make your way back to the living room to ask if he by chance had anything for you to use. Otherwise, you'll have to go to the twenty-four hour shop down the street. "Um Harry, do you have a pad or tampon I could use? I’ve just started my period and forgot to bring anything." You linger there, feeling somewhat awkward as you await his answer.

Harry turns to you and replies with a gentle smile, "Yeah, of course. You can go to my bathroom upstairs and look in one of the drawers by the sink. I generally keep period products there for when I have female visitors." God created men, and then he created Harry as an apology, you conclude. He's so fucking thoughtful.

With a sigh of relief, you respond, "Thank you. I'll be quick." You hurry up the stairs and proceed to his bathroom with urgency, fully aware that you're currently free bleeding. Upon entering, you close the door and search through the drawers of his vanity to locate the pads and tampons.

The first drawer you open is filled with floss picks and an electric razor. The second drawer holds additional rolls of toilet paper. However, as you open the third drawer, you're met with an unexpected sight that leaves you speechless. You were hoping to find something to assist your period, but instead, you come across a selection of dildos and butt plugs. When you finally open the fourth drawer, you let out a sigh of relief upon finding the items you'd been searching for.

You take a tampon out and make your way to the toilet to insert it. After you're done, you wash your hands and let your thoughts return to the drawer that's filled with sex toys. Harry has never mentioned having any of these types of items. Despite the many times you've had sex, he's never proposed the idea of incorporating sex toys into the mix. Perhaps, he uses them for his own pleasure, or he might enjoy using them on partners. But if that's the case, why hasn't he brought that idea up to you before?

You make your way out of the bathroom before Harry has time to become concerned and head downstairs to resume the movie together. Upon your return to his side, he asks, "Is everythin' alright?" You had a weird expression on your face that he couldn't quite place.

Trying to play off what you've just seen, you reply, "Yep, yeah, I'm fine. Let's finish the film."

For the remainder of the night, you don't bring up what you discovered in his bathroom drawer, but it never leaves your mind. If anything, you're just curious as to why he has those items. You would never judge his reasoning.

------------------------------

A week has passed since that evening you discovered Harry's drawer containing phallic-shaped items and butt plugs. You've been looking for the right moment to bring it up, which has now finally presented itself.

Currently, you're in Harry's bed, having sex. He's on top of you, pounding you into the mattress, while your hands rest on his perfectly round bum. As he begins to thrust more vigorously, your hands slowly slide closer to his crack, and when you accidentally graze his sensitive hole, Harry almost collapses on top of you.

Seeing how much pleasure it caused him, you do it again, this time with purpose. "Oh fuck!" Harry curses as you rub your fingers over his puckered rim.

Taking a deep breath, you bravely ask, "Yeah, does that feel good? Like having your tight hole played with?"

With his forehead resting against your neck, Harry affirms with a nod and softly murmurs, "uh-hu." He only confesses this because it's clear that you're open to touching him there; otherwise, he would've refrained from sharing such information due to his fear of being judged.

Eventually, you get lost in your own pleasure and forget about touching his bum. That is, until you're laid lax on the bed, muscles weak from your orgasm, with Harry laying on top of you. As you both try and catch your breaths, you bite the bullet and ask the question that's been on your mind all week.

"So.... does those toys you have in your bathroom drawer have anything to do with you liking your ass played with?" You really hope your question doesn't come off as rude or too invasive. You're genuinely curious.

Harry's body goes rigid at your question. Then he sits up slightly, looking down at you with confusion. "What?"

With a hint of anxiety in your voice, you explain, "Um, it's just, the other night, while I was looking for a tampon in your bathroom, I opened the wrong drawer and discovered several dildos and butt plugs. I was just wondering whether those items were for your personal use or you use them on other people. But just so you know, I'm not judging you in any way, just curious is all."

Harry falls back down and buries his face in your warm skin, feeling a wave of embarrassment wash over him at your accidental discovery of his sex toys. He usually stores them in his closet, but after cleaning them the other day, he had set them in the drawer to dry.

In truth, Harry does enjoy anal play. Ever since he began puberty and started to explore his body, he discovered the pleasurable sensations that can come from anal stimulation. A few years later, he recognized his bisexuality, which, although not directly connected to his enjoyment of anal play, is certainly a positive in the situation.

Unfortunately, he's only had a handful of male partners. Therefore, when he's not able to experience penetration from a real cock, he frequently utilizes one of the dildos he's purchased for himself.

When he was with women, Harry typically didn't mention his liking for having his ass played with, out of concern for being judged. There were a few instances in the past where they'd end up finding out, leading to a mix of reactions—some supportive and others quite judgmental. So, he opted to keep that aspect of himself hidden and relied on his toys for when he craved anal.

Now that you're aware of his secret, he's filled with dread at the thought of your rejection. Yet, he reckons that if you willingly touched his bum during sex, that implies you're not completely against it.

With his warm breath against your neck, Harry reveals, "Um..... yes, they're mine. When I was a teenager, I realized I enjoyed havin' my bum touched. I usually keep it to myself 'cause I've been judged for it before. So....... that's why I tend to use my toys when I am alone. Sorry for not tellin' you."

The quiver in his voice stirs a sadness within you. Him revealing his anxiety about your potential judgment and the criticisms he's endured in the past breaks your heart. You tenderly hold his face and elevate his chin so he can meet your eyes. "Harry, sweetheart, I would never think less of you for liking that. I suspect many men would enjoy anal if they gave it a chance."

You take a deep breath and continue, "I do have a question, though." Harry nods for you to go ahead, so you proceed to ask, "Have you ever used your toys with your girlfriends before? Like, have they used them on you?" If he's open to the idea, you would definitely be eager to make use of his toys on him. The image of fucking him anally with one of his dildos arouses you more than you care to admit.

"There've been one or two times I shared my likin' of anal with ex's who were particularly kind and acceptin', which I appreciated. But in most cases, my partners didn't last long enough after discoverin' my interest in anal play to allow the use of toys during sex. S'also why I keep my sexuality a secret. 'Cause people can be so judgemental."

"Sexuality?" you question cautiously, allowing Harry to explain at his own pace.

"Um yeah, think I was sixteen when I realized I liked boys and girls. So I reckon m' bisexual. But I've only had two male partners. S'why I have so many toys. But I wouldn't say my sexuality has anythin' to do with my likin' for anal, just a bonus I suppose."

You hold Harry tightly in your arms, hoping to express your appreciation for his courage in confiding in you. It's clear that he feels a sense of safety in doing so.

You become aware of his current vulnerability; he's still without clothes, his soft cock positioned between your legs, your bare body surrounding him. The love you feel for Harry is so big that you struggle to find the right words. You also refrain from voicing it aloud out of fear that it may be too early in your relationship to utter such sentiments. So instead, you mummer against his ear, "Thank you for telling me, Harry."

He's on the verge of tears due to your exceptional acceptance. Harry has long struggled to find a girlfriend who fully acknowledges his sexuality and kinks. In his past relationships with boyfriends, he was often judged for his enjoyment of hetero sex, while his experiences with girlfriends led to criticism for his interest in gay sex. This constant judgment made him feel as though he could never succeed in love. However, with you by his side, there's a chance that you'll offer him the love and acceptance that he's been longing for.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

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My Masterlist Masterpost

[salsakiyoomi]

higuruma should've known better than to pick the lawyer's life.

the work before him never seemed to relent, piling over and threatening to spill over ; contract, briefs, motions and the likes.

he rubs his temples, a dull ache in his head that had become close to second nature, something he has grown familiar enough with.

 — there were always more files to skim through and more cases to solve.

it was never ending.

then there was you.

you moved silently around the office, ever the lingering force that always kept higuruma grounded to real life and not spiraling into whatever he had at hand.

you've been around for years now, starting as a mere assistant to the beginning of your lawyer life, and overtime you've become essential to him — not just for work, but for the way you always seemed to know what he needed before he ever did.

“you should go home.” higuruma says as you stand in the doorway of his office, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed, “it's already late and over work hours.”

“so should you.” you say smoothly, the words simple on your tongue but heavy on his heart — not in a bad way, but in the way that seemed to make his stomach flip whenever you were there to look out for him, be it big or small gestures, it always seemed to make the butterflies erupt in his guts.

“what's keeping you up so late anyway?” you ask, moving around his office to clean up the files and paper scrambled everywhere.

“the tanaka case.” he sighs, leaning back in his chair, watching as you swiftly move around his office, “their corporate structure is a nightmare to untangle. plus, i keep finding discrepancies in the financial reports that need addressing." he says, gesturing vaguely at the stack of documents piled high on his desk.

“i’m sure it can wait until tomorrow, no?” you say, locking eyes with him with a gentle smile on your face.

his eyes drop to your lips, gaze lingering on your goddamn beautiful smile that always seems to make his heart jump in his throat before he nods reluctantly.

“you're probably right,” he admits, standing up and stretching, “i’ll figure out the loose ends tomorrow.” he says, walking over to where you are tidying up his office.

“good,” you hum, stacking away the documents before turning to face him, “let's go?”

“yeah.” he says and the both of you walk out of the office and head towards the elevator.

the elevator ride is silent, albeit, comfortable silence, you keep stealing glances at higuruma, taking in his appearance — the curve of his nose and his serious expression, his dark hair disheveled from running his hands through it and his tie loose around his neck.

god, he was so handsome.

he catches you looking and raises an eyebrow questioningly, “what?”

“nothing.” you immediately say, looking away with a slight blush creeping to your cheeks.

he watches you avert your eyes, his heart beating overtime in his chest yet his expression remains as stoic as always, this time, he's the one staring at you, his eyes trailing all over your body.

his gaze drops to take in your curves, your waist, and long legs that are accentuated by the black pencil skirt you wore.

he realizes he’s never looked at you that way before — sure, he liked you for your personality and the way you always seemed to uplift his day, and he knew you were beautiful, he just didn't take time to appreciate that beauty.

he swallows hard as the elevator pings, signaling that you've reached the lobby, and he pushes down the thoughts and feelings as the both of you walk out to the parking lot.

“well, i guess this is where we part.” you say, a smile on your face before waving him goodbye and heading off.

higuruma doesn't know what came over him in that moment — perhaps it was god’s will for him, or perhaps it was the whiskey he had earlier finally taking its effect in making him bold because he was taking a step forward and grabbing onto your arm, spinning you around to face him.

your eyes widen in shock, and you feel your heart hammering in your chest, little did you know, higuruma’s heart was hammering in his chest as well, because oh god he did not think this through — what the hell was he supposed to say now?

“thank you.” he blurts out after a moment and at your raised eyebrow, he elaborates further, “for being here, for keeping me grounded when i get lost in work.”

“...you're welcome.” you say shyly, flattered and higuruma notices the slight blush that tints your cheeks. 

“go out with me?” he blurts out once more — god, what was up with the sudden boldness that overcame him?”

you blink, once, then twice before your blush deepens — no way this was real, he was seriously asking you out?

“like…on a date…as a couple.” he elaborates more, and he can't help but feel that this was a very stupid move.

“yes.” you say almost immediately and higuruma's heart soars.

“i'd love to go out with you.” you say, a gentle smile on your lips and he can't help but feel his cheeks heat up.

“great.” he says, his hand leaving your arm as he straightens up in an attempt to regain his composure, “saturday, seven pm? enzo's?”

you laugh, “sounds great to me, i'll see you then.”

he smiles at the sound of your laugh, it was like music to his ears, “see you then.”

higuruma watches as you walk away, not believing that this is real but soaking in the feeling because it was indeed real.

and for once in his life, higuruma thinks that the lawyer life isn't so bad, because at least he got to meet you.

[brightvelvet]

I'm going through season 1 of Rings of Power again before I start watching season 2. There's so much to talk about, but what I want to talk about here is Halbrand. Specifically, Halbrand and what he meant to Galadriel. **NOT WRITTEN WITH HALADRIEL IN MIND**.

For one, looking at interactions, these two don't feel like friends. There's no casual exchange of friendly words or touches. Galadriel looks at Halbrand and sees so many things. He's rough around the edges and wary, handsome if grody, and too clever. His goodness wasn't apparent from the get-go, and it appeals so well to Galadriel's own seeming struggle with darkness. They're equals, but Galadriel's watching Halbrand to see what he does as much as he's evaluating her.

Galadriel wasn't being wise or powerful when she kept coming back to Halbrand and his potential royal bloodline. To be clear, she doesn't trust anyone. She can only go to him because he won't care enough to use her and he's too kind to say no. Most importantly, she recognizes his type, someone she doesn't want to leave by their lonesome. Maybe it was selfish of her, to keep dragging Halbrand into her journey, but I don't think so. Halbrand was a cracked reflection of her flaws and strengths, and so she treats him not like any friend or ally. She treats him like he's cut from the same cloth as her, like he's a mirror of herself. She pushed him like she wished someone would push her. Unfortunately, we know that Halbrand was incredibly receptive to this.

For two, Halbrand's reciprocation to her actions just enflames their strange, intimate dynamic. Galadriel pushes hard, asking more and more of Halbrand and it seems harsh from the outside. Yet Halbrand stays with her step by step, taking in her commands and demands. Galadriel pushes so much of her own expectations on him and when she thinks of him the words -thank you- must surface. She realizes how tired she is of carrying everyone's expectations alone. Her gratefulness and guilt for him sharing her burden are what finally manifest Halbrand as that mythical King in her mind. Not his silver tongue or Southland's crest. They speak the same language, 'favors' as a weak cover for the fact that they are too loyal to ever refuse the other. She meets him at the bow of the ship and acknowledges this attachment. It becomes something she holds close to her chest in the absence of anything else. Not love, but some type of dream fantasy/fulfillment where Galadriel doesn't have to fight alone.

For three, Galadriel watches Halbrand fight the orcs and it cements something in place. Galadriel appreciated Halbrand before, was grateful and saw good qualities, but here we see that she genuinely doesn't want to let him go. She was never interested in redeeming his bloodline, not really. The 'bloodline right' was to convince other people of her cause and his glory. She never needed a material reason to want better for him. But now it sets a line between them. He was her equal when he was a low man but now he is a King and he has other obligations. It threatens to drag him from her, and I mean drag because he's demonstrated on a few occasions that he's just as attached, and she's conflicted. Maybe some part of her wants to grab him and run. It's not simple, what she feels for him. It's not simple what his person does for her. And the thing is, she knows what the correct course of action is. He looks noble, acts noble, and hundreds of Southlanders need him. He would be the King they were Promised. So she begins to let him go in her mind, loosen her dream from her heart, because she won't keep him. He'll become one of her ideals (like Elrond, like her husband, like her brother) and she'll remember their time together as bittersweet.

In the end, Sauron grows impatient of Halbrand.

Her dream dies when Halbrand eventually asks for the one thing Galadriel wouldn't give.

Halbrand himself dies a dishonorable, screaming death. His pupils shrink to slits, his eyes shot through with red. His teeth become ungainly and sharp. His skin turns grey and darkens with visible veins.

Galadriel turns her blade against him.

She'd looked up to him on his mortal, Kingly pedestal. She'd envied him, been so proud, and wanted to steal him away. And in the wake of his utter betrayal, she has to try and think past the flames.

Halbrand's dead, even if he never existed in the first place. She can't mourn him, for so many reasons, and she must immediately get ready for battle because her massive fuck-up could cost the lives of everyone she loves.

Halbrand's ghost will haunt her though, and I'm sure not just in the form of her worst nightmare come to life.

[fandom-rants-here]

I need Mike to confess first. And I need Will to not believe him.

something something...

"Will, I promise you I am not lying. This isn't- this isn't any prank or trick or mischief or whatever you think is going on here. I am telling you that I am in love with you. I always have been."

There are audible tremors in Mike's voice and he thinks he feels tears falling down his face.

"Whatever I had with El was not love. It was coincidence and my own cowardice that brought and held us together. It was dumb luck I met her. But you know who I was looking for that day? It was you, Will. It's always been you. I chose to walk up to you on that playground 10 years ago. I chose to ask you to be my friend. I chose you. "

Even if Mike had the confidence to look towards Will, his eyes were blurred with tears and he couldn't even see the ground they were falling on.

"I'm sorry for what I said at the pizza shop. It was- I was lying. I was just saying what I thought she needed to hear again and I really don't know why cause it never works and you were right there and it fucking hurt to lie so much and you didn't deserve that, you- Will, my life didn't start the day I met El in the woods, not in the way I implied, at least. You were missing, most thought you were dead or would be soon. We were all so hurt and lost without you. Joyce seemed half hysterical, Jonathan- I'd never seen him so sad, and we, The Party, we didn't know what to do without you. I felt like death, like I'd died without you to keep me alive. But then we found El and she- if she could be lost in the woods and found, so could you. And then- then she recognized your photo and she knew who you were and she flipped the board to show you were in the Upside Down and- and meeting El wasn't my life starting. It was hope restarting it, hope that she could get you back to us."

They stood and he wasn't sure if Will was nearly as frozen as he was, but it took him several moments to regain any thoughts and then continue speaking.

"Will, I've known I was in love with you for years, now. But the love has been there far longer. You- you're amazing, Will. You're so smart, even if you suck at math. You capture beauty in ever drawing and painting you make, creating it from sheer care and adoration alone, when you have to. You consider other's thoughts and feelings before you do or say anything, no matter how angry you are. You're such a quick thinker, it's scary sometimes. Not- not really, but you get the idea. You're the most level headed person inside of a group where everyone else is about 10 seconds away from murdering each other. You're patient, gentle, honest, hilarious, and you're also, like, super handsome. I couldn't live without you, without my cleric. I almost didn't. You've saved me more times than you know. Because, Will, you are so strong and so resilient. You've survived and endured more than anyone ever should be forced to yet you remain kind. You called me the heart, in the van. And don't even try to say that's all El, you and I both know that she doesn't think that and that you're a terrible liar. But, really, Will? Me, the heart? Will, that has always been you. You bring together and unite people. You bring out the best in people, even when they're cruel or being assholes or telling you things that aren't meant for you but for themselves. You have always been the heart of this party. You've always been my heart."

The weight of their matching watches is heavy on Mike's wrist, the syncronized ticks breaking the stark silence every second. And, as he finally lifted his head up, Mike once again saw that Will had already been staring.

For once, Mike doesn't look away. Rather, he takes a few hesitant steps closer.

"I love you, Will Byers. You are my best friend, my first friend, my childhood crush, my gay realization, my tether to reality, my cleric, and you have been the most important person in my life since you entered it. Maybe even before. Maybe I had carved out a space knowing one day you'd fill it."

[theinheriteddutchess]

He knows what he wants, but is he going to get it?! (Yes😤)

I'm glad he didn't go further, but why do it in the first place. I mean he's comparing the two of them with her ex,and claiming it's epic love basically while knowing he also cheated in the epic love story. 😑 I would be careful with making assumptions.

Why would it be complicated? And surely it shouldn't be when he's hopping onto her as soon as she shows up. Indeed, it seems both of them are just considering and hurting their child. Is his ex wearing the ring? Are they noticing him suddenly taking it off. Him taking it off now means nothing, but a shallow display to get reader. Who can trust it?

Het vagina doesn't think well! Hose her down.bI know he's a hot man but we should be better than this (*impatiently waiting*)

I think she would talk more about how mature and how fast in the relationship she was😌😇🤷🏻‍♀️ he needs to hear this, for plot, and slight revenge. Maybe name their future children because you discussed it and watch him explode😏

I know she didn't realize it, it's just sad she's realizing it while he's basically smugly rubbing that information in. See I know I want him, but I also really want to play!

No Jen, build up and don't show he has power right away! But sex because he's sexy and he needs to be reminded and she thinks it will get it out of her system but of course it doesn't, because that magic is definitely there. 🫠🫠🫠 I can't with this man, I do not know how to deal with my feelings!

He doesn't know, he just wants and is scared to lose her, and so he's going to try to be patient but his sexy man vibes can't be contained. I really can't wait to see their inspection next. I have been debating all evening to ask you for a snippet😭😂 didn't want to forget you and yet really wanted to. I just want more.

(needed to add this pic because wolfpack Kayce could be the future)

Weight of My Sins, Part 1

Summary: You thought life on the ranch was over. Couldn't bear the sight of Kayce anymore, so you fled all the way to Texas. You found a new relationship. You lived. You got a degree. But you missed Montana more than anything, but he wasn't leaving Texas. Now you're back on the ranch, and you and Kayce both lived your life. But that draw to him is still there, even if you're terrified to let those walls back down again. No matter how much you crave him.

Pairings: Kayce Dutton X Reader

Rating: mature

Warnings:  explicit language, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.1K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @saradika-graphics

“Stop fidgeting,” Rip’s gruff voice bellows in the truck, and you press your hands under your legs.  Continuing to stare out your window.  The closer you get to the ranch the worse the feeling in the pit of your stomach gets.  This has got to be a bad idea, and nothing good can come of it.  You need a job just as much as you need a place to stay.  And Rip did you a solid in getting John to allow that for you.  Under different circumstances this would be the perfect solution to your problem.  

“You’re going to stay in the bunkhouse, so I’ll have to go over some ground rules with the wranglers,” you roll your eyes as you turn to look at him.  Ever the protective big brother role.  He isn’t your biological big brother.  Just a man that felt sorry for you as a kid, and helped out when he could.  You were his pet project.  And one of the few people he was kinda nice to.  Some things never change. 

“I don’t want you fucking around with them.  And believe me, they’re a bunch of lonely, horny cowboys.” 

“Aww, but you’re not interested in me.  Are you still lonely and horny?” He gives you an eat shit grin, shaking his head.  You are not the least bit worried about the wranglers.  They are the least of your worries.  “What if this doesn’t work out?” 

“Grow a pair of balls and make it work,” he shrugs as the ranch comes into view.  Immediately your fingers start fidgeting under your thighs.  So many memories remained here.  Up until the point that you left for veterinary school.  Anything to help out the ranch.  That’s Rip’s philosophy, even if he won’t say it.  Anything.

“Quit fidgeting!” He growls at you.

“I’m not!” You don’t want to admit that being here is turning your stomach inside out.  Don’t want to admit what just seeing the last name Dutton does to you.  Some things just are better left unexplored.  Especially now that you’re going into his territory.  His home.  

Rip puts the truck into park, and you inhale slowly.  Letting the fresh air fill your lungs before you slowly exhale.  Popping your neck for good measure before you sling the door open, and jump out.  Time seems to stand still here.  Very little has changed, except your age.  “Come on,” your adopted brother says, and you follow along with his long strides.  

Slinging the door open, Rip drops your meager duffle bag on the floor, and every man in there turns to glare at you.  Lloyd gives you a slight dip of his chin, “Welcome back, Bronc,” you nod to him.  The others you don’t truly recognize.  

“This here is like a little sister to me.  You treat her with fucking respect, and you stay out of her damn pants,” clearing their throats they return to their card game, leaving you puffing out a nervous breath before giving Rip a head nod.  “Yep. That’s it,” he says, turning on his heels, and leaving you in this den of bears.  

“Which bunk is available?” 

“One of those back ones,” Lloyd points in the direction without removing his eyes from his hand.  You didn’t expect a grand welcome, but this is pathetic.  Your eyes roam around each of the bunks.  Examining the spaces, looking for anything familiar. 

“He’s not here,” Lloyd answers, finally looking at you. 

“Who?” the old man’s eyebrows lift, as he nods at you sarcastically.  Judging asshole.  You weren’t looking for anyone.  You were trying to figure out how you fit in with these men.  Reaching into your bag, you stuff a few peppermints into your pocket.  You sling your duffle bag onto the bunk before turning to go towards the door, “I’m going out.” 

“Uh huh,” Lloyd answers knowingly.  You didn’t care what the man thought of you.  You need to get out of this room.  It’s stifling being in this bunkhouse.  Hell, it’s stifling being here.  With all these memories.  But ones that you love so much.  You miss it. 

Sighing at your contradictory thoughts, you kick gravel as you walk to the barn.  Getting away from humans, and joining animals.  They were better than humans.  They didn’t offer any words of wisdom, or judgement.  They are just there.  Lifting up a peppermint to one of them, he eats the treat off your hand, and you lean your head against his nose petting him.  

“First night here, and you’re already spoiling my horse, Bronc,” you didn’t have to see him to know that voice.  The one voice that makes you weak in the knees, and sick to your stomach all at the same time.  The one voice that has stuck to you like a bad habit, and you seek comfort in it with every sylablle. 

“Dutton,” you respond before starting to walk away.  He steps in front of you, and you turn to walk the other direction, but he jumps in front of you again.  His mouth turns up into that irresistible smile, and ‘it just makes you angry, and also makes you want to touch him.  The conflicting emotions just don’t stop.

“Why are you feeding my horse treats?” 

“Why are you hiding in the dark?” He shrugs.  A cute smile creeps onto his face, and you bashfully look away as heat flares your cheeks, “Did you follow me out here?” 

“No, I didn’t know you were going to be here.  Why are you here?” 

Somehow him not knowing you are going to be living here floods you with relief.  “This baby wanted a little treat, and I doubt you were giving him anything.” 

“You’ve not changed,” smiling, you let your eyes coast down his body, freezing at an ugly ring on his finger, and your blood turns cold.  Why is he even here giving you any ounce of hope?  He notices where your sight is, and hides his hand, but it’s too late.  Everything from that last night boils in your chest.  

“But you’ve changed,” you try to smile, and it just hurts.  You didn’t expect Kayce to not have a life and live it, but moving on with a wife is not what you expected.  

“It’s complicated,” is the only thing he says as he stuffs his hands in his pocket. 

“It always is with you, Dutton,” you respond, starting to walk away.  This time he doesn’t follow.  You can almost see him standing there with his pretty puppy eyes.  

“We’re separated,” you stop in your tracks, but don’t turn around.  Saying something like that is almost a death sentence.  Separated did not mean they weren’t going to get back together.  It could mean they needed space.  And you weren’t going to be the space he filled.  You sigh, turning to look at him.  

“Mmm, I don’t know if that’s good enough, Kayce,” his smile doesn’t falter.  You used his first name.  Using that name is so much warmer than using Dutton.  When you bring out the last name, he knows you’re slightly annoyed.  

Walking up to you, his calloused fingers brush over your cheeks, and he pulls you in for a familiar embrace.  Caressing your back as he brings you too close.  Like your bodies were made to meld together.  

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” you respond, pushing out of his hold and you turn to give the horse a kiss.  

Your body is on fire.  Trembling as you take a step back from him.  His scent of sunshine and leather blinds you.  The want for him is almost too strong.  “What do you want?” 

He grunts, “You,” but you shake your head no.  Everything is always so damn complicated with him.  “We are separated.” 

“And yet, you’re still married.” 

“Do you think that if I was happily married I’d be out here after midnight?  I’ve moved back to the ranch, and we rarely talk, unless it has to do with,” his voice goes softer, and your eyes slowly close, “My son,” the twisting of that knife hurts so much worse than hearing he’s married.  “I never meant to hurt you.” 

“Yeah.  And I can imagine how it is with you.  You come here to be separated, and somehow you end up feeling sorry for yourself, and lonely, and then you're driving out wherever, and right back into her arms to play house.  Is that how it goes?” 

“Not exactly.” 

“Why is it different now?” There’s no answer that he could give you that would make you feel better.  You’re left feeling like a junkie, and your drug of choice is Kayce John Dutton.  Always was.  Probably always will be.  

“Because of you.” 

“Oh, no.  I just got here, and you don’t get to come here with your pretty words when I’m trying to do a damn job.  You and your cute ass need to keep things professional.  I don’t need this Kayce.  It’s my first night.” 

“So you don’t hate me?” You could never truly hate Kayce.  You could have your heart broken by him.  Again.  But you’ve never hated him. 

“No, but I’m also not fucking you,” he chuckles as you walk backwards, and out of the barn. 

“Again!” He yells, too loud, and you hope that no one hears the two of you out here alone.  You didn’t need any rumors going around about how you were fucking him in the barn on the first night.  

“It was a mistake,” you wink at him.  Lying in this instance is a way to protect you.  There’s nothing that you regret with Kayce.  Not on your end.  

“And why was it a mistake?” 

“Premature ejaculation,” he looks down at his feet, as he toes the ground, “Due to the fact that neither of us knew what we were doing.  But it sure did get us into a lot of trouble, huh?  Have a good evening, Dutton.” 

“That wasn’t nice,” he peeks up at you, smiling anyways.  

“Nice?  Was it nice that I saw you with some girl in our spot?  You sure were curled up, and enjoying her with your mouth.  Was that nice?” 

“Wait…” you have to rip the bandaid, and let him know that you knew what he was doing.  You should have confronted him then.  Maybe you could have truly moved on and healed.  Maybe you wouldn’t have longed for Montana, and those pretty brown eyes still. 

You shake your head, because you need space from him.  He is crowding your thoughts, and your vagina.  If you didn’t get away, you’d be rolling around in the hay with him.  “I get we were teenagers.  Too young to be fucking.  And too stupid to remain faithful.  

“So I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Like we have a choice,” he stands there smiling.  Not fully defeated by your words.  You weren’t bending to his words and charm, but you also weren’t refusing to talk to him.  “Don’t wear the ring.” 

“Whatever you say, Bronc,” you wouldn’t forgive him if he kept showing up with that ugly thing.  It pains you to know that he went off and married someone and had a child with someone that wasn’t you, and you couldn’t blame him either.  He’d moved on, and in so many ways you haven’t.  

You hope you don’t regret this decision to be here.  Hope that Kayce doesn’t infect your mind, and heart in the way he’s always done.  Knowing that he’s married, even if separated, helps.  And he has a kid.  Time didn’t change your feelings because you still ache for him.  

Separated.  

What did that even mean?  How did he define that word?

How long has he been separated?  Were his sweet words anything more than that?  Would he return to his wife?  He has a kid with her, so it’s not like he can just walk away easily.  Unless he already has.  But how can you be sure that this is it?  It’s the end and he’s never going to be with her again?  And if he was sure, why not going through a divorce? 

No.  You’re here to do a job, and doing a job is what you’re going to do.  You want to be treated just like everyone else on this damn ranch.  You weren’t going to become a love sick puppy for him.  You’re going to enjoy the Montana air.  The view here.  And finally doing something with your life.  And for you.

“Bronc and I are going to take the back,” Kayce smiles at Rip, and the older man’s eyes narrow at him.  

“Why?” he asks, giving you a quick look as you saddle up a horse, ignoring the conversation.  You’ll go where you’re told.  “Why are you bringing up the rear, and why is she even coming out with us?” 

“Because if something happens, we have a licensed vet right with us.  She’s bringing up the rear because she’s never gone out with us before, and this will give her a chance to learn.” 

Rip places his hands on his hips, gazing out to the sunrise, sighing, “I’m still not sure why you’re with her.  Put Jimmy in the rear with her, and — why the hell are you shaking your head at me?” 

“She doesn’t know Jimmy.” 

“And yet she sleeps in the bunkhouse with him,” Kayce clears his throat, and only because the last place that he wants you to be is with Jimmy. “What the fuck is your problem?” 

“Bronc and I are taking the rear.  Jimmy’s got flank.  Is the bunkhouse really the best place for her to be?” 

“Hell, Kayce, she’s not going to learn anything by getting special treatment,” you aren’t getting special treatment from him.  He just wants to make sure you stay comfortable, and be with him.  He needs more time to talk to you.  “Fine,” Rip growls, getting on his horse.  “She’s your responsibility then.” 

“I’ll try to keep her out of trouble.” 

Rip turns his horse around and heads towards the front, “Bronc, you're with Kayce in the back,” you sigh, climbing onto the horse.  Kayce gives you a wink as he climbs on his own, and waits for you. 

“You’re not subtle, you know?” He shrugs, and you can’t help but take a peek at his hand.  The ring thankfully is gone.  He kept his word.  And while it does ease your stomach, there’s still a part of you that knows that still isn't enough.  It’s easy to not wear a ring in private.  It’s easy to pretend it doesn’t mean a thing, but it does.  It should. 

“Are you planning on making sure we’re always together?” He shrugs again.  He’s the one that wanted you in the rear with him, and now he’s not talking.  But maybe you’re just not asking the right questions.  “So how have you been?” 

“Doesn’t matter.  I’m better now,” you scoff, keeping your eyes on the cattle.  “What?  Is my response not satisfactory?  Remember you left Montana.” 

“And you had your hands in some other girl's pants.” 

He winces, sucking air through his teeth, “Are you ever going to let me explain, so I can maybe get your forgiveness?  I told you I was stupid?” 

“Are you ever going to do it again?” 

“Are you ever going to go on a date with me?” 

“Not anytime soon,” you click your tongue, and tap your heels on the horse.  Speeding up a bit more, but he keeps his pace with you.  “Things can’t go back to how they were,” you wonder if he thought any relationship can return to how they were before, or if you’re just the lucky one.  Did he still carry a torch for you, like you did him?  

“So no more sneaking off into my room, doing things we were too young to be doing?” Him and his stupid little smile get you every time.  Not to mention the passion you always felt with Kayce.  You were never going through the motions, you loved every moment with him.  Even your fights that quickly were resolved, and you went on loving each other anyways, and loving harder.  

“Why did you leave?” His voice darkens, and he turns his face away from you.  

“I needed air,” he nods, understanding.  You needed to get away from him.  “Why did you do it?” 

“Kiss someone that wasn’t my girlfriend?” 

“You weren’t just kissing.” 

“Yeah, that’s all we did,” you shake your head no.  That is not what she implied happened.  And just kissing is enough anyways.  “It was stupid.  And I quickly realized that she wasn’t you, and did I say that I was stupid?” 

“You did,” you look over towards him, smiling, “But you can keep saying it,” a comfortable silence settles between the two of you, and you breathe in the fresh mountain air.  Realizing all the reasons that you missed Montana, but also the Yellowstone.  Things are peaceful in their way, of course, but there’s just this home feeling here.  

“Did you miss it?” 

“Do you mean did I miss you?” You turn to peek towards Kayce, and he chuckles, shaking his head.  

“I asked if you missed it as in this?” 

“Every day,” you enjoyed school, and you would do it all over again for the experience, and to say you have a skill.  You did miss some of the people, and now that you’re here you miss some of the people in Texas.  One of the people. 

“What did — did you — I mean,” he clears his throat.  Looking up to the clear blue sky, before back over towards you.  You already know exactly what he’s struggling to ask, and it’s due to the fact he doesn’t really want to know.  “How was Texas?” 

“You want to ask me the real question?” sometimes it’s best to just know the truth, and lay it all out there.  Even if you’re scared to know the answer.  You can learn ways to cope or just get over it. 

Kayce sniffs deeply, and tilts his head to the side in thought, “Did you meet anyone there?” Not the right question.  He’s such a coward. 

“Cowboy up, Kayce.  You can do better than that if you really want to know.  Just ask me like a man.” 

“Are you dating anyone?” 

“No.” 

“Did you?” 

“Was that so hard?” Surprisingly he nods his head.  He can respond but just asking was like pulling teeth, and it kinda gave you a bit of a confidence boost.  “I did.  Was.  I was dating someone.  It was pretty serious, but he wanted to stay in Texas, and I wanted to be back here.  We split amicably, and I packed up my stuff, moved out, and now I’m back here.” 

“What was he like?” His jaw flexes when he asks.  He doesn’t truly want to know what he is like, but you’re going to tell him anyway.  Kayce always had a possessive streak.  It never reached toxic heights, thankfully. 

“He’s a mechanic.  Older than me.  He’s a good guy.  He didn’t have much growing up, but he made something of himself, despite his setbacks,” Kayce just nods his head, refusing to look at you.  You like seeing him squirm a bit.  Not that you’re into comparing, but you didn’t have a child with him, nor were you married.  “I think you’d like him.” 

“Not likely.”  

“He played football.” 

“Definitely wouldn’t like him then.  Let me guess, he’s just a regular ole pretty boy that treated you okay, but it wasn’t great?  Maybe borderline annoyed you?” 

“He’s a good guy.  We were getting to a more steady part of our relationship.  It wasn’t too exciting.  And we never fought,” Kayce snorts, causing you to look towards him.  “We didn’t.” 

“Sounds like there was no passion.” 

“You mean it doesn’t sound like us?” 

“We’re adults now, Bronc.  We’re not going to act like two lovestruck teenagers anymore.  We were figuring ourselves out.  We didn’t know the meaning of compromising.  Now we’re grown,” no, you weren’t teenagers anymore.  He’d definitely grown.  At times you and Kayce just didn’t want to see eye to eye.  There was absolutely no compromising in your relationship.  So him admitting that makes you feel happy.  You left something steady, albeit boring at times, because the two of you couldn’t compromise on where to live.  He wasn’t leaving Texas, and you wanted to be in Montana.  

“So just how boring was this guy?” 

“Tell me about your son,” you counter.  Kayce smirks while looking up ahead to the herd.  You aren’t supposed to go out with them often, but you wanted to see the land again.  “How old?” 

“He’s eight.” 

“You didn’t waste any time did you?” 

“He wasn’t planned, and I was distraught.  I don’t regret him though.  He’s perfect.  Reminds me of myself.” 

“Did you love her?” He goes silent.  His puppy dog eyes scan over everything as he contemplates.  “I think I loved him,” Kayce turns to look at you, his smile now returning.  “What?” 

“Did you ever tell him?” 

“Yes.” 

“So did you lie?” It’s an odd thing to say, really.  It shouldn’t be hard for you to admit that yes you loved him or no you didn’t.  It felt right at the time but hindsight is always twenty twenty.  Now, you’re unsure just how you felt about him, “So what you mean is you didn’t love him like you loved me?” 

“No,” definitely not what you meant.  Right?  All those years weren’t a lie.  You had fun.  You enjoyed yourself.  You loved, and felt loved, and — so easily left it for here.  And Kayce.  “I didn’t say that.” 

“You didn’t have to,” he looks towards you, slowing his horse down, but your mind is racing too much to try and look at him.  You need space again, and yet have to stay.  You want to run, but towards him or away from him?  You knew that the forever there complicated feelings towards Kayce would return the moment you saw him, but you weren’t prepared for this.  And if you left again, those feelings would remain.  Eventually you’ll have to explore those feelings.    

Questioning your relationship was not something you had planned.  You loved him, but could live without him.  It’s why you chose to come here.  Back home.  And to him.  So why is it so hard to admit that out loud, and to Kayce.  Why does this man crowd your brain space, and make you question every decision you’ve ever made. 

The only reason you left Montana was to get space from him.  You needed to breathe and make sense out of everything going on.  And to find yourself without him in it.  Without anyone in your life.  To know you could do it.  Kayce was supposed to give you time to figure this out.  You could have a life out of this bubble.  

This beautiful, amazing bubble. 

“Why did you come back?” 

“This is the place that has always felt like home.” 

“Because it’s where I’m at,” he sure is cocky.  Brazenly full of himself.  Part of this being home is him.  But that doesn’t mean that you are referring to him as home.  It means… “You can deny it all you want, but…” 

Kayce clicks his tongue, and starts a faster gallop, leaving you contemplating what he said.  It’s what he does.  He weasels into your brain, and makes you think and question things.  And then he finds himself in your pants, and then in your heart.  But that isn’t the concerning thing, the concerning part is not fully knowing if he is correct.  And do you want him there?  

“You know what I always liked about that girl?” Kayce looks up at his dad, confusion laced in his eyes.  “She never tried to change you.” 

“Who?” 

“Oh, are you still denying that you had a thing with Rip’s little orphan project?” Instead of responding, his son takes another bite of food.  The two of you weren’t exactly quiet about your feelings for one another, but you also didn’t parade it around.  “I see.  So she comes back to town, being hired on as a personal vet or wrangler, I can’t keep up.  And the first thing she does is go on the trail with you, and rides right beside you?  Okay.” 

John eats a piece of meat, smiling at his son who still says nothing.  “You speak more when she’s around.” 

“Are we going to talk about Bronc this whole dinner?” 

“Still got that same nickname for her.  How do you feel about her sharing a bunkhouse with a bunch of men?” Kayce despises it.  Hates even thinking about someone getting too close to you.  He’d offer for you to stay with him, but you’d immediately jump to conclusions.  You could sleep where you wanted to, but he did have an extra room.  “I see.  Must make you sick to think about all those cowboys around fresh meat. We know Bronc can take care of herself.  But she did just get out of a relationship because he didn’t want to take things to the next step.” 

“He didn’t want to move to Montana.” 

“Where she wanted to get married, and settle down with him,” John shrugs as he wipes his mouth with his napkin.  “She’s quite vulnerable.  Don’t push her, but don’t have her too far away from you,” he nods as he pushes his chair back from the table.  “You should offer her some of the food Gator made.  I’m sure it’s better than whatever microwave food she’s got there.” 

—

There is a lot of freedom being here.  However, the food sucks.  You’ll have to remedy that soon.  Sitting out on the porch, you kick up your feet, and inhale deeply.  Letting the mountains absorb your problems.  Hope that they will, so you have some clarity.  

Even with everyone in the bunkhouse carrying on and playing a game of poker, you feel relaxed.  Today felt good.  You didn’t exactly know what your job here would entail; maybe you’d need to travel to some other ranches and tend to their animals.  But tonight, it’s just you.  And the annoying music coming from somewhere.

You won’t let it bother you.  

You don’t care if it’s annoying ‘country’ music.  What even is that shit?  Nope.  It won’t bother you.  You’ll just sit and eat your microwave Mac and cheese, and ignore whatever is going on over there.  This is your bubble.  Your safe space.  You are calm and collected.  Not annoyed at all.

That music is just very obnoxious, and you swear it’s getting louder.  You could ask them to be quiet.  You don’t even know whose cabin it is.  Someone that works here, obviously.  But it’s like they're purposefully trying to get under your skin.  

You sigh as you stand up stretching.  Going inside the bunkhouse would involve you trying to ignore the wranglers.  While not impossible, you’re now more curious as to who is being obnoxious.  It won’t hurt to go check it out.  

Making sure to throw your garbage away, you start to head towards the door, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Lloyd calls after you, but you don’t listen.  Don’t even turn around.  You have some exploring to do.  

You have to know.  Need to know who it is.  You don’t have far to walk judging by the sound.  It’s close.  Far enough away from the bunkhouse for some privacy.  There’s nobody here that would hurt you.  There could be other things that could be dangerous. 

“What are you doing out alone?!” You spin around, and hit him due to your veins coursing with  adrenaline.  “Ow, you still got an arm on you,” Kayce winces, rubbing his arm. 

“Why the fuck are you sneaking up on me in the middle of the night?” Whisper screaming as you hit him again.  “What is wrong with you, and what is the deal with this shitty music?” 

“So the music worked?” You stare at him dumbfounded, trying to figure out what he’s meaning.  “It got you over here, didn’t it?” 

“You ass, Kayce Dutton.  I was minding my business, eating dinner, and looking at the stars.” 

“Your dinner wasn’t good enough,” you have to look away when he licks his lips.  Causing every fiber in your body to heat up.  Being with him alone in the dark is a sure fire way to get you in trouble.  You’re resisting the urge.  You could fall for Kayce again, just not tonight. 

“Yeah, and what are you going to do about it?” 

“I brought a plate from the lodge,” bare minimum.  Don’t fall for this.  This is barely anything.  You want him to work if he wants to get you back.  And you know you shouldn’t rush into anything serious.  With Kayce it will be serious.  “I can heat it up.  We can dance, talk, watch a movie, sit out here?” he smiles sheepishly, shrugging his shoulders. 

“We’re not dancing to this shit.” 

“Of course not.” 

“And I don’t think dancing is something we should do,” he nods his head yes, agreeing to that.  “We can sit out and stare at the stars, and I’m going back to the bunkhouse.” 

“I have an extra bed.” 

“But I won’t stay in it.”

“Why’s that?” Kayce steps too close to you, invading your bubble, and it’s hard to breathe.  Be strong.  Do not fall for this.  If you want to be with Kayce the wait will be worth it.  You want to be able to give you and him the best possible chance.  Start from the beginning. 

“Because I am weak when it comes to you, and I don’t want to be.  So my happy little ass will walk right back to that bunkhouse, and I’m going to sleep there.  And tomorrow is a new day, and you’re going to stop flirting so hard.” 

“I can try and do that,” his hand brushes away the baby hairs off your forehead, and you fight not to lean into him.  Glancing down to his left hand, you count this small moment as a win.  

“Thank you,” you whisper to him before spinning around, and walking towards the cabin. 

“Why?” 

“If I have to tell you it doesn’t have the same gravity,” he smiles serenely before jumping in front of you to open the door.  He’s had that ugly ring off twice now.  It’s a small thing that should not mean much, and yet it does.  You just hope that he keeps it off.  Because you can’t handle another heartbreak like that.

Next

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@tis-thedamn-season @theinheriteddutchess

[lsunstreakerl]

slinking out of my homework induced coma. darkbull! 1.7k words, carlos pov. (I'll be posting the "discipline" ficlet later today hopefully, but you guys get some insight into it with this one). once again: this is the darkbull universe. it's not as bad as the kidnapping ficlet but it's not great either.

Carlos breaths out a slow breath, fingertips grazing the cool metal in front of him. Wheatley watches impassively from a few feet away, protective headphones around his neck.

"Your father ever teach you to handle those?"

Carlos remembers being small, holding BB pellets in his hands, but-

That had been for fun. Not anything serious, just boys being boys, trying to see who had the best aim, who could hit the furthest can.

Nothing like this.

He wraps his fingers around the handle and lifts, feeling the weight in his palms. It feels heavy, but not as much as it should.

Something with the power to so easily take a life shouldn't be so easy to lift.

"He didn't teach me with one of these, no."

Wheatley nods, stepping closer and rearranging Carlos's fingers around the handle.

"It's going to have some kickback. I don't want you worrying about bullseyes yet. I want you making sure your aim is steady."

Carlos brings it up in front of him as Wheatley raises his headphones up, placing Carlos's over his ears as well.

He widens his stance a bit, steadies himself as much as possible. Wheatley had been telling him about this part- shoot on exhale.

He focuses on the target and lets his thumb flick over the safety.

This is not what he thought he'd be doing when he joined Formula 1- not even close. None of it is. He didn't think he'd be content in a "junior" team, he didn't think he'd end up entangled in part of a historical criminal empire, he didn't think he would be in a three way relationship where only two of them know what's actually happening.

At least- he thinks it's three way. If it's not now, it will be soon. Daniel has been circling him and Max, like the moon orbiting the Earth. He gets closer each pass, eating meals with them or doing workouts together, and Carlos knows Max is head over heels, so it's really only a matter of time.

Max wants Daniel, just like he'd wanted Carlos, and he gets what he wants.

Always.

Max getting what he wants is why Carlos is here in the factory basement, learning how to kill someone.

Max has no idea about the way the factory revolves around him. He's their guiding star, their perfect pet, their number one driver.

Carlos sometimes finds himself wondering if Max even realized what was happening when he was seventeen. Probably not- Carlos remembers Max at seventeen, angry and defensive. Nothing like the Max of now, fierce on track but happy to roll over for the team, let them do whatever they want to him.

If Carlos hadn't been present in the factory to watch the slow progression, he almost wouldn't believe it. He has to respect Redbull for their patience, but-

He's afraid of how long they're willing to play the long game. They'd been so careful with Max. They'd gained his trust, and they'd gone so slowly it's no surprise Max didn't notice.

Holding onto him just a bit longer in a hug than someone normally would, a hand slipping lower on his back or higher on his thigh, palms around his neck- the slow removal of personal space, of boundaries- the way there are always eyes on him. Max is so used to being observed he doesn't even register it anymore.

Carlos had pressed him against a counter the other day, because Max had been sweet and desperate and wanting, and he'd had a moment where he worried that someone could walk in.

And then Max had whined into his mouth and begged for his fingers, and Carlos realized he didn't care. Max's flat is bugged, there are trackers buried deep into muscle and flesh, the team has never had any grievances about drugging him- if someone walks in on them, they'll probably just be glad to see Max has his needs met.

Just like he'd feared, someone had walked in- gotten their drink from the fridge as normal, winked at Carlos, and then left.

The only change afterwards was that Carlos felt like the team approved of him more.

So. He's been proving himself right lately.

Carlos looks at the target in front of him. Max is so- Max is naive, about the whole thing. The team works very hard to keep it that way, and that responsibility now falls on Carlos as well.

He tries to imagine someone breaking in, trying to hurt Max, trying to kill Max-

Redbull would go on a warpath.

Carlos thinks of Max laid out underneath him in bed, curled up with him on the couch, running next to him on the track. Fierce, syrupy sweet Max.

He thinks of someone else getting that Max, someone who's not Redbull, someone who hasn't put in the work.

There's a sharp flicker of possessiveness through him.

Carlos fires.

------

Two weeks later:

Carlos has his back leaned against the headboard, Max asleep between his legs, head resting on his stomach.

Daniel steps back out of the bathroom, passing Carlos a washcloth.

"He out?"

Carlos nods, fingers absentmindedly running through Max's hair. It's been getting softer since Carlos convinced him to start using conditioner. It's getting longer as well- enough that Carlos can tug on it gently, enough that the ends of it curl at the nape of his neck.

"Yes."

Daniel pulls on a pair of sweatpants and settles next to Carlos, careful not to shift the bed too much. They're both talking quietly.

"Well, we know he likes that."

Carlos huffs a small laugh.

"We should keep a list."

He means it as a joke, but the way Daniel tilts his head, eyes assessing- it might not be a half bad idea.

Daniel reaches over to the bedside table, tearing out a piece of paper from one of their smaller notebooks as he snags a pen.

His eyes shift over to Carlos, and he sounds contemplative when he speaks.

"Wheatley's added evening meets to my schedule for the next two weeks- said I should ask you about it."

Well, that answers a question Carlos had been wondering about, if Daniel had been trained already or not.

"He's going to teach you to shoot. Also some knife work."

Daniel snorts, eyes crinkling over at him.

"Nah mate, seriously, what's it about?"

Carlos lowers his head a bit, eyes flicking back down to where Max is asleep between them.

"I am serious. We are around Max a lot- we should know how to protect him just as well as the rest of the garage."

Daniel's eyes are wide when Carlos looks back up at him.

"Oh."

He carefully folds the paper up before sliding it back in the drawer.

"When did they start teaching you?"

Carlos hums, lightly scratching his nails across Max's scalp. Even in his sleep he makes a soft noise, burrowing slightly closer to Carlos.

"Right after we got together. The team is very observant about these things."

Daniel nods.

"And he seriously doesn't know anything?"

Carlos shakes his head, but it's somewhat fond. How Max has managed to remain completely oblivious is a feat in itself, and Carlos has his suspicions that Max purposely ignores things that don't make sense. Ignorance is bliss, or something like that.

"No idea. I think maybe he gets suspicious when the team is mad at him, but it is hard to keep track during that time. He gets very lost."

"Mad at him- like a couple weeks ago with the Williams incident? The only thing I noticed was that he was a lot quieter and had a hard time staying focused. If anything, the team seemed nicer to him."

Daniel sounds confused, which is fair.

"Daniel, that is the punishment."

Carlos needs to think of a way to phrase this that doesn't send Daniel running for the hills, cultlike crime empire team bosses be damned.

Carlos had thought it was bad too, when he'd first learned, but he's since then seen the positive effects. Max really does do better this way, with the positive reinforcement, but sometimes they have to... wipe the slate first.

"The Williams thing, he was reckless, yes? Was not thinking of his own safety on that overtake, and it crashed them both out. He was not thinking of his own safety because the pundits that week were talking shit about him."

Daniel still looks confused.

"They were talking shit about the whole garage, yeah. That weekend sucked."

"So the most recent thing in his brain is the media, for that race. Makes him race bad. The solution is to,"

Carlos flounders for a second. Christian had explained this much better.

"The team 'wipes the slate', if that makes sense. When he is lost or unfocused, it is because they are trying to remind him of the actual priorities. You will hear them remind him often about how we want him to drive. The repetitiveness-"

Carlos spins his index finger a few times to mimic the motion.

"-it sticks with him. He doesn't remember specific things from that time if they only happen once, but if everyone is telling him frequently to look out for his own safety in the car... much easier for him to remember, yes?"

Carlos brings his hand back down. It really does make sense, if you skip past the questionable ethics.

"And he does not like to be confused like that, so he tries to do what the team asks and avoid it."

Daniel's brows are furrowed, and he looks concerned- but also deep in thought.

"How the fuck are they doing that?"

Carlos shrugs.

"No idea."

He lets the topic drop, because he does know. Had even helped with it, after the Williams incident, because it helps Max, but Daniel-

Daniel isn't ready for that yet. Might not agree to the group effort of slipping things in Max's food and drinks, keeping him unsteady and disoriented. Carlos doesn't like doing it, none of the team does, but it's a necessary thing.

Besides-

He looks back down at Max. He's so trusting of all of them. Eager to please, thrives on praise- none of them could bear actually being angry with him. It still hurts the heart of the team when he's confused like that, and it's upsetting to see the way he gets disoriented and lost, but he comes out of it better. It's the right thing to do for him, and it works.

Daniel will get looped in when he's ready.

[thepepsicolafams-blog]

Everyone is talking about the parallels between this new chapter of BSD (Chapter 121) and BSD Beast.

Before in the last few chapters (Chapters 115 - 120.5) were compared to the BSD Novel “STROMBRINGER”— specifically of how both Atsushi and Chuuya had lost close members that they considered friends and family to a power Ability Users that knows way more about them then they know themselves and wants them to themselves for reason yet to be known.

But now in this current chapter though, it parallels to the BEAST universe with Atsushi and fear.

Here we have “Hallucination Dazai(?)” talk to Atsushi about how he never needed to be ‘brave’ or ‘strong’ to get stuff done or fight what he fears.

The chapter talks about fight fire with fire— or in this case fear with fear as “Hallucination Dazai(?)” directs Atsushi’s attention away from how scared he is to fight Ame No Gozen to save Akutagawa because it was way he had lost a great portion of his friends/family—to the now fear losing whatever now remains of his family and friends with Lucy and Kyouka still waiting for him in the ‘Anne Room’.

This fear turns into motivation that makes him keep fighting.

Somewhat similarly, this is also seen in BSD BEAST of how BEAST!Atsushi used his fear of pain, suffering and specifically Death to become the Port Mafia’s White Reaper.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And this is just my thoughts so feel free to just skip this, but I find it interesting that this is not the first time something like this happened. Every time we saw “Hallucination Dazai” previous it said the same if not similar things to Atsushi.

I get that it's in his head, that's what a hallucination is, and he has the same thing with The Orphanage Headmaster, and I know it takes Dazai form to guild Atsushi and that’s it’s a hallucination in his mind so that it shouldn’t mean so much. But after seeing the end of this chapter I'm wondering how this will go out.

Like all I want to see now are some answers to Atsushi “Who you really are” like my guy... what do you mean!!! Is this a hallucination or something else? Is it Atsushi’s Bookmark powers telling him what to do and stuff, is it Atsushi connecting to the Book with how much it reflects to the world of BSD!Beast or is it Atsushi’s tiger powers/Byakko talking to him.

I say this because Atsushi had referred to know what this “hallucination” really is meaning that it’s not what we originally thought it was/that’s it’s not really a hallucination of Dazai but something else entirely.

Or

Is it Atsushi finally understanding what Dazai had been teaching, what he is telling him, this whole time and discoing/realizing who he really is.

Looking into himself in the picture he made of Dazai to help him keep fight to finally understand that he has a right to live, that he doesn't need to be brave to fight-- that he always been able/has been doing this and that he should stop now because some rat drew some pictures and ripped some paper.

Having that anime protagonist moments of self-discovery and finding the will to keep fighting.

Guess we just have to wait and see. Next Chapter is coming next month, and I can't wait for what happens next!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

On another note, it's a very funny coincidence that when I went to the library the only BSD Novels there were that day were BSD! BEAST & BSD! STROMBRINGER-- both of which i took with me and am now reading! What a coincidence!!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

i recently read your book 2 fix-it post, and i just realized how insanw it is that leona had no political consequences. he's a literal prince with so many resources and power and a reputation to uphold. wdym his only consequence is feeling bad??? 💀

like im lowkey surprised nobody used his plans as blqckmail material, or that this didn't become some kind of political scandal or whatever bc WHAT

[Referencing this post; my book 2 rewrite here and follow-up post here!]

Yeah, that's always been a mystery to me too. Even if it was a failed attempt or the second prince of one country committing it against the crown prince of another, it's still an aggressive action and would have major ramifications... I think the implication is that Crowley hushed up the events??? I'm surprised that none of the spectators present at the interdorm tournament (you know, the ones evacuated from the stadium) spread rumors beyond NRC. Even if they had no idea what the context for the OB, surely they'd still be freaked out about having to be evacuated and would speculate on the emergency and why it happened??? Especially if there's a PRINCE (a public and political figure) involved???

I guess Twst never really aimed to tackle these hard political issues (well, maybe not until book 7 with the human-fae conflict), so they brushed it under the rug?? Malleus's actions in book 7 also carry huge consequences for the world and fae's relationship with mankind, but given Twst's track record... I'm not really sure if they'll address them either.

Generally, the game doesn't cover what happens after an OB in great detail. We get the mention that the OB boys see a therapist and little bits of character development here and there, especially in the books following their own dorm and in book 6. But the most serious ramifications we see are when the Scarabia students call for Jamil to be removed as vice dorm leader and Kalim has to convince everyone to let him stay. The light novels have expanded on the fallout, such as noting that students now look at Riddle differently following his OB. Maybe book 3 of the light novel (which has yet to be released or even announced) will similarly shed more light on the fallout for Leona's OB.

[harmonysanreads]

We literally have no information about Anaxa and yet I find myself simping for him, how great.

Anyways, I have a feeling that Anaxa is going to be cursed or something along those lines, he gives off those sort of vibes, doesn’t he? Plus, he has some weird mark on his hand and an eye patch, there is no way that this man is an ordinary scholar. How about you, Harmony-san? Any ideas for Anaxa? :o Also, I like to imagine that yandere! Anaxa is delulu lol.

Darling: How- Why are you in my house, and who are you!?!?

Anaxa: ……You’re my lover, isn’t it obvious to spend time with your beloved?

Darling: I don’t even know who you are…..

I would go absolutely feral if his pet name for darling was ‘beloved’ or something along those lines, like aaaaa I love him so muchhhh orz

(And, if possible, can I please be 💫 anon……? I’ve always loved your works, but never had the courage to send an ask…. But I do plan to send more since I have severe brain rots, so I think you’ll be seeing me lurking more in your posts lol)

Of course! Welcome to this... uhh brainrot dump 💫 anon! Have a cup of tea <3

Not so much as being delulu but, there is the popular hc of Anaxa being autistic, which I agree with as well. There's npc dialogue that hint towards a Chrysos Heir who is very nitpicky about the water's temperature in the baths, there's also some that suggest that Anaxa might not be very well-received around Amphoreus. Which, him being a heretic and all, makes sense. They also call him a yapper, but I think it's a bit of an exaggeration on the npc's part. He's a fundamentally quiet man, but he's simply passionate (in his own way) about the topics he has interest in.

So, my current perception of him is that he's someone who doesn't conform to societal standards without strong (preferably logical) evidence. This bias has contributed to a detachment from human and emotional connection, making him inexperienced and frankly, quite dense towards those prospects. Even if he understands the concept of loving someone on paper, he isn't bright in processing the emotions that are stirring inside right off the bat. And this lack of understanding makes him a bit unintentionally impulsive when it comes to the outer reaction part.

For Yandere!Anaxa, I've been on board with him being devoted to his darling to counteract his lack of faith since they revealed him. You could either go with him having fully accepted darling as his savior or, just keep him in that ‘conflict’ zone where he's questioning his whole existence from the mere realization that he's that endeared by someone. For nicknames, I like the sound of beloved as well, especially if it's said very sarcastically. But I think a concept or object that is very particular to him would be even more precious. We'll just have to wait for the details.

[all-pacas]

PORN STAR: We're [patient and his wife are] both busy with our own stuff. Think what you want, but we're proud of what we do. CAMERON: Divorcing sex from all emotional content? PORN STAR 2: Emotion is emotional. Sex is mechanical. There doesn't really need to be any overlap. CAMERON: Certainly not in your world. (teamwork)

CHASE: The first time you slept with me was because you were on crystal meth. CAMERON: I was on the drugs because I was emotional. It was the emotions that led to the sex, not the drugs. CHASE: Not true. After that, you refused to let it go further than just sex. CAMERON: Because I knew I was falling for you and I didn't want to. (lockdown)

these s6 retcons are so funny to me, because i actually think this was what the show intended all along, they're not meant to be retcons. they're funny because they absolutely are: s2/fwb arc camchase gave us almost no inkling that cameron had feelings, that she was already vaguely interested in chase in s2, that she had feelings for him in s3 until the last minute. and then s6 comes in with cameron confidentally stating with chase in the room that "all sex should be emotional, intimacy matters," followed by lockdown's "no, i had feelings from the start." it's so funny.

but i do think it's the intended read, because we actually do see/hear this in S3, we are told directly that cameron has feelings for chase… it's just we don't hear it from cameron.

CAMERON: I didn't realize you were going to get hurt. I'm sorry I misled you. CHASE: You didn't. You have feelings for me. You come back to me again and again. CAMERON: For sex. It's a simple, physical… CHASE: C'mon, you have feelings for puppies and patients that you barely know, but when it comes to a guy that you've worked with for three years? Had sex with, spent the night with, you're telling me you feel nothing? Absolutely nothing? (act your age)

the thing is: he is absolutely correct. cameron spends all of act your age acting dumped and heartbroken, chase pointing out it's not fair she gets to be the hurt one when he got dumped. even before that, there's plenty of signs cameron is pretty terrible at this whole emotionless sex thing: she spends all her time with chase in and out of work, pretty consistently refers to their arrangement as a relationship (chase even correcting her once), spends nights with him, goes into work with him, etc. they're eating most meals together. and that's on top of their pre-existing friendship: cameron and chase have always been work friends, he is the person she talks with about relationships and her crush on house (hilariously).

chase in act your age / with his whole tuesday routine isn't trying to woo her, he's calling her bluff, and he knows it. chase, himself, is not a huge risk taker: it's actually kind of wild he's putting himself out there and setting himself up for heartbreak, giving his MO and stated "never care about anything" philosophy (that he is himself bad at, but he tries). tbh, for chase to even feel confident enough to pursue her openly is pretty telling. he was pretty fucking convinced cameron was full of shit. he was right.

but the s6 retcon dialogue is so funny. they're on the verge of breaking up. she's off the show. and yet cameron still takes the time to clarify "actually, i don't believe in emotionless sex and had a crush on chase this whole time :)" . in fact i believe her. it is still objectively deeply hilarious.

[spaceorphan18]

The Lady Whistledown Papers : 2x06 The Choice (Part 1)

Welcome back, Gentle Readers, to The Lady Whistledown Papers, where I’m taking an in-depth look at Penelope Featherington and Colin Bridgerton’s character arcs and romance within the show Bridgerton!

For previous issues, follow tag : The Lady Whistledown Papers

Time for an entire episode centered around the Anthony/Kate/Edwina triangle. Yay? You know what really is the most fascinating, though? There's a lot of Pen and Colin in this episode and yet it feels so disconnected from the main story.

Which. Look, don't get me wrong, I wouldn't be sitting here doing this if I hadn't been having fun dissecting this show. But one of it's faults is the fact that it doesn't seamlessly blend its story lines together. Season 1 tried when they had Daphne and Marina's stories merge a bit at the end. But all of the Lady Whistledown stuff, Colin's arc, Pen and Eloise, Eloise and her publisher boy, it's just on another show as the Kanthany stuff. And yes, I realize the Queen is something that does tie all of it together. And sometimes the family scenes do get things right. But for an ensemble show, sometimes these plot lines feel just a little too disconnected that it makes it jarring when they intersect. (And yes - I have had this issue with all three seasons now.) Anyway... enough of my diatribe.

Bachelor Party

Oh, this scene. I love a good ABC Brothers scene - I hope they still manage to have them post-Season 4. Anyway, while Kate and Edwina are reflecting on love and their changing lives while they have their girl night, the boys are having a drink and playing pool. And I just think the presence of the pool table in Bridgerton house (I mean, I assume that's where they are? it looks like Anthony's study, and it doesn't look like it's at a bar, so...) is really funny. Like, they hauled that thing in for this one scene and is never to be seen again. I wonder which of them is the best pool player. Hmmm.

Also - Season 2 is just full of a lot of games isn't it? Fencing, pall mall, pool. Is it a metaphor of all the games Kate and Anthony play??? Okay, I'm probably stretching there, but it is kind of fun to pick out threads like this.

Anyway, back to Colin. Anthony's being moody. Benedict is being snippy. And Colin is just hanging back being the little sass master he usually is -- teasing Benedict for drinking too much and sniding at Anthony for being a sourpuss. It's amusingly endearing. I love their dynamics so much.

Obviously, Anthony really isn't happy about who he is marrying, but there's an interesting kind of rift between him and his brothers. Anthony's story is all about obligations and duties, and feeling the weight and burden of having those things spelled out for you at birth. While Colin's story is all about feeling adrift and feeling as if he has no purpose. Anthony envies Colin (and Benedict)'s freedom to do as they choose, while Colin is envious that Anthony has some kind of meaning in his life. The grass is always greener.

Though, not that Colin is really being all that philosophical in this scene, as he is too busy being tipsy and playing pool, giggling in the background as his brothers take potshots at each other.

(I love this scene so much.)

Also, a couple technical-ish things to point out. I kind of love the way this scene is shot. The camera is meandering around, shakey and always moving, and is on angles all the time -- not only to make a nod at the amount of alcohol being consumed, but also to visually represent that disorienting and dizzying predicament Anthony has found himself in.

I also really love their outfits in this scene, just because they mesh and complement each other -- Anthony, btw, is in a dark navy blue, that is almost black, and almost looks like he's in mourning. Benedict in his deep red and golds, I haven't noticed Benedict's color patterns, huh, while Colin is in his usual pewter blues. Idk, historically accurate or not (and usually not) the costuming is just fascinating to look at to see how it represents their characters.

Also, also - Colin through the mirror shot! It doesn't mean anything, I was just amused by it. Just wait until I don't shut up about mirror imagery in Season 3. ;)

Hard to tell in the screenshot (and may bit slightly the lighting) but there is some gold embroidery in his clothing, and I'm fascinated by how much creams and yellows end up in Colin's wardrobe. I'm also fascinated by the cravats because he's going to start ditching them in Season 3 and... I have a whole lot of thoughts about that. More on that later, stay tuned...

Anyway, the scene moves on to Benedict continuing to rib Anthony, and teasing him about having an heir who will just be a mini-Anthony. And Colin jokes that hypothetical mini-Anthony will be just as much of a tyrant as his father. (And I mean, I do think Colin will actually end up having a good relationship with his nieces and nephews... this comment is merely a reflection of how much a pain in the ass older brother Anthony can be.)

Bottoms up, Colin! (This is the clearest shot I could get.)

They're toasting to the 'disagreeable sister' and, interestingly, Colin's toast is to besting her. I don't know that I even know what to do with that - other than reiterate that Colin does, indeed, have a competitive streak. And also he likes sticking it to Anthony almost as much as Benedict does.

Oh, also, there's a really tiny detail in here that I'm sure no one notices but me since I've now watched this scene like ten times in a row. At the beginning of the scene, Colin makes it a point to mention that the alcohol they're consuming is meant to be sipped. And then at the end, he downs it like a frat boy on a mission to get drunk, and chokes on it. Idk, I was amused. But considering how the rest of the episode goes, while I do think Colin very much appreciates a good drink, I don't think he spends a whole lot of time downing as much alcohol as Anthony does.

Whispers

I'll have to look up this director, because they very much are into all the camera movements this episode. Genevieve shows up for a house call, but it's really because Penelope has summoned her? The writing is slightly fuzzy. But the point is that Genevieve and Penelope need a moment to talk. And the camera swirls around them. The camera movement adds tension to the scene, as it's never settled and always suspicious.

(I went and looked, it's Tom Verica - who has worked a lot with Shonda Rimes. Interesting. Also -- the way they do directing for this show is also interesting, in that there's one director for two episodes a season. I'm going to watch for stylistic changes.)

Anyway... Penelope is seeking out info about Theo -- asking if Genevieve if she knows anything about him. Genevieve doesn't, but she picks up on the fact that Penelope is panicking slightly, and does a little herself. She tells Pen that her business is too important to let little things slide, and Penelope reassures her that her business is also important, and she'd definitely let Genevieve know if something is up.

The camera lands on Penelope and pushes in when Penelope lets it be known firmly that Lady Whistledown is not a joking matter, though she doesn't really see a problem yet.

Btw, the scoring is tense and ominous here, but comes to a point when Portia enters the scene. I love these technical details so much! It just adds so much to the drama of it.

Portia doesn't understand why Genevieve is there, but Genevieve is quick to cover saying she meant to deliver something to the Bridgerton house instead.

I love Penelope's abrupt change of demeanor. Two seconds earlier, she was hardened business woman trying to protect her interests, and while still very young, able to be an equal peer with Genevieve. And then her mother appears, and she is youthful, dutiful, childlike Penelope again, all smiles and innocence. I'm just so fascinated by performances today, apparently.

As Genevieve leaves, Penelope faces away from her mother to watch the modiste leave, her face falling, a look of worry on it. Meanwhile, Portia walks by scoffing at the fact that a woman runs her own business -- stating it's no wonder her mind is scattered. An obvious judgment, and an ironic statement since Pen, too, is a woman running her own business.

Btw, despite the fact that the previous episode made it a point that the Featheringtons are no longer getting invitations to things, they're on their way to the Bridgerton wedding. Did the Queen decide to just invite everyone then? Huh.

Pre-Wedding

What being in fandom feels like sometimes...

Ah, Bridgerton memes, you will never not be funny.

Violet is trying her best to get a move on of things -- they have Anthony's wedding to attend! I love the family chaos of it all.

Colin is hung. over. The light bothering him. His family being too loud. The stinging headache. (Ngl, it's kinda funny) I LOVE Violet's remark to Benedict -- 'Whatever you've done to your brother, undo it.' It is such a mom line and I love it so much.

Colin comments that he doesn't have the same capacity for alcohol as his brothers. And I mean, this checks. Anthony was downing bottles of alcohol last season, and Benedict gives off more fratboy energy. Unlike his brothers, Colin is usually more in tune with living with his feelings, and doesn't usually use narcotics to suppress them. It's really only when they get extreme does he reach out for something external (such as getting high in Greece or getting incredibly trashed in season 3).

Casual drunkeness isn't Colin's style.

Benedict's suggestion for the hangover, however, is more alcohol! Is this payback for Colin getting Benedict high? Or just amusement on his half? Idk, it's interesting. But Colin is going to take it. I want to point out, now, that Colin is drinking in nearly every scene of this episode, and I do think there's more to it than just an attempt at nursing a hangover.

We'll get there. For now, we have a wedding to get to!! :)

[lovecharmforyou]

…. just asking this out of curiousity but… any ideas or headcanons on Hyunju x Sangwoo 👀? If you do requests like that ofc. Can always request smth else.

~hyun-ju x sang-woo headcanons/ideas~

this is my first time making headcanons! Sorry if the format isn’t perfect and kinda random haha. I had so much fun making this though hope u like. thanks so much for sending in this ask. I love that u fully made this ship btw I support so hard! Feel free to send In more asks!

— Sang-woo straight up offers to pay for Hyun-ju’s surgery 101 times but Hyun-ju is always too polite to accept money from him. Regardless, Sang-woo is always be willing to spend money on Hyun-ju- even if it’s his last 5$, in a second he’ll spend it on her

— Sang-woo lowkey wants to be a sugar daddy!husband

— When they first start getting to know each other, (outside the games) all Sang-Woo can do is buy Hyun-ju gifts with a quiet nod of the head when he gives them to her. It’s not him wanting to be the rich one showing off, or the powerful one of the two, he just doesn't know how else to show his affection yet. Its how he tries to woo her, but Hyun-ju ends up telling him she doesn't need the gifts or anything to spend time with him! She just wants to be with him

— Gift giving is 100% his love language and quality time is hers🥹<33

— In the games together, his brains and her skills… Them teaming up would be dangerous for everyone else, they could win every game so fast but- Hyun-ju would be wanting to save all these people and Sang-woo wouldn’t exactly want that, with every aspect he has to consider in each moment. But Hyun-ju knocks sense into Sang-woo and convinces him to help her help the rest of their team and friends they made on the inside.

— He’s smart, cynical and a little dark. So naturally he wants a very large portion of the money for himself, but he really takes into account what she says and softens up. Plus, he’d fold immediately and helps her with everything she asks of him after seeing how much she cares about these people and how they make her happy (and realizing how much he wants to make her happy))

— She helps him learn to be kind. She brings it out of him.

— Hyun-ju also brings out his protective side

— She brings out the best in him and he brings out the worst in her— the part of her that is seething with the world, and he sees that part of her and he loves every part of it. He wants to see the dangerous, strategic and tactical part (he sort of sees himself in her, although she is much more unconditionally nice), the spiteful part of her. But he also very much loves the overwhelmingly large sweet side of her. The caring and kind part that makes up most of who she is.

— Meeting in the middle of the good and bad parts of themselves, they use their skills together to win the games with the people they’ve grown to care about in there.

— After they’re out, he follows her to Thailand. Knowing how precious she is, how different and unlike anyone he’s ever met before, he'd never let her go ever again

— Late at night just two of them they’d smoke cigarettes on the beach and watch the stars twinkle

— Sang-woo would propose in a shockingly fast amount of time, under the bright moonlight of a full moon, completely silent other than the sound of waves washing up on the beach. The Intimate moment shared only between the two.

— (Hyun-ju totally cries and is a little bit in disbelief, but saying yes would be the easiest decision of her life)

— Him being so traditional, he puts a big-big diamond ring on her finger and absolutely loves it, as does she

— Their play-fights would turn into a real competition fast. At first, Hyun-ju would feign weakness and lose. But once she gets more comfortable around him, she'd let loose and let herself show her true strength and be her honest unapologetic self. She never thought it was possible to be so okay with being herself with another person. And to be so validated doing so. During their first “playfight” where she lets herself use more strength and technique, she surprises him and catches him off guard, pinning him to the ground. He looks at her in with a small expression of awe, while attempting to be as respectful as ever, he wouldn’t be able to hide the look of amazement on his face

— He's smitten with her strength, her mind, her abilities, to be kind, to be selfish. All of it, all of them.

— And she would love him the very same, and knock some much needed sense into this man

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I <3 Hyun-ju x Sang-woo